Caged Bird
by Selena Dobrev
Summary: After discovering her brother's plan to marry her off to Khal Drogo, Daenerys flees with her dragon eggs and finds herself prisoner in Winterfell. As time passes she bonds with the Stark children, eventually gaining their trust and finding love with Jon Snow. As the war begins, they find themselves struggling to overcome their greatest adversaries.
1. Escape

**A/N**: This is going to follow the TV series, since I haven't read the books. It takes place during the first episode, but with many changes. Basically, Daenerys has met Khal Drogo, when Illyrio introduced them in Pentos. But, they sailed to Westeros to retrieve the dragon eggs he was going to present Daenerys with on her wedding day, which he left with a friend and then they were going to return to do the wedding. So please bear with me if there's any confusion, this is my first Game of Thrones story. The Daenerys in my story is going to be a bit stronger-willed then the TV series one was in the beginning, but she still has a long way to go in this story. I apologize if the characters seem OC, I'm still learning about their character traits, how they'd speak, etc. Enjoy!

_Chapter 1: Escape_

Read. Relish. Review.

* * *

'_I would let his whole tribe fuck you, all forty thousand men, and their horses too if that's what it took.'_

Those cold words continue to echo cruelly in her head. A cold spider of fear was embedded deep inside her; her dear, cruel brother would stay true to his word if that was what it took. She stared out unwaveringly through the window of her room and into the distance at the small brown ridges of land, the barren landscape embracing her turbulent emotions.

Khal Drogo, The Dothraki leader she had been sold off to as if a mere piece of meat by her brother. He now possessed her future. Had she really expected her brother to reconsider? The welling up of hopelessness inside her took her breath away. They had met, once, a brief moment in the Free City of Pentos. The battle hardened figure had stared at her with eyes devoured in darkness. Eyes that had engulfed the heavens and stars threatened to swallow her. Now here they were, sailing across the narrow sea to Westeros, so Illyrio Mopatis could retrieve his gift for her wedding to Khal Drogo.

Tears welled in her blue orbs; lips trembled the slightest bit she could not control. Her heart ached, _'Why?'_ It whispered over and over again. She wanted to close her eyes, wish away this horrible nightmare. "Why?" She whispered the word swallowed up by the howling wind.

"You know why, dear sister," Viserys spoke eerily as he appeared in her line of vision.

Feeling a surge of rebellion, she murmured with morbid composure, "I don't want to be his queen."

A carefully controlled hand rose towards the young girl's face and three calloused fingers slowly brushed down the line of her cheek, "Why?" Viserys asked as he trailed past his sister's chin, his face drawing closer, the hand wrapping tenderly around the petite blonde's neck. "Why?" He roared and the wind hissed along with him, a vicious gust of biting chills that whipped around their figures. She stared back unmoving, meeting her brother's encompassing eyes straight on, her eyes bright with unshed tears, gaze unwavering and strong with her beliefs.

"You are nothing but my pawn little sister," Viserys seethed, his eyes flickering with disgust. "You have no choice in the matter, you shall marry Khal Drogo and I shall receive my army."

His hand tightened around the slender neck of the young princess as his Targaryen temper flared. She carefully breathed through her newly constricted airway, she did not reply, she had no answers for him.

"Those stupid, miserable, greedy barbarians will become my army," The Targaryen heir snarled, his words stinging like the strike of a whip on her tender flesh, "You belong to me until you wed Khal Drogo." He gave her delicate body a violent shake.

"I don't belong to you," She rasped out weakly, while her eyes remained defiant.

You pathetic girl," Her brother hissed, tossing her aside unceremoniously as she fell against the edge of her bed, the wood splintering her pale skin. She forced away the cry of pain emanating in her mind. Fresh cuts and bruises littered parts of exposed expanse of skin. Some exuding silver tinted blood. Without a second glance, Viserys made his way out of the room, only pausing to snap, "Clean yourself up, we'll be arriving soon in Westeros." Struggling to her knees, she staggered to her feet after the door was shut.

She closed her eyes in pain, "I'm Daenerys Stormborn Targaryen." She whispered feebly, repeatedly, willing the name to carry an ounce of strength in her tone, but she was failing.

Daenerys was pale and quiet when it ended; sitting on the edge of her bed, never, in all her days did she imagine a life like the one she once lived. The silent war for her freedom in her head had continued, others never noticed the present tension; it was only the faintest of hums when listened for. Her blue eyes, though cold and distant, were still filled with an intense passion for the life she wished to live. She took in the silence surrounding her, gloom thrived here in this barren room she called a home for the past few days. Waves of silvery blonde fell off her shoulders as she surveyed her reflection in the mirror, the face unrecognizable. Perhaps it was her imagination, but her skin seemed paler than ever.

Slowly she withered onto her bed, with the promise of tender sleep coaxing her on; she fell into a dreamless slumber. It wasn't until a gentle hand shook her shoulder did she stir. "Come my child, we've arrived." Illyrio ushered, his gaze skimmed over her body, quickly coming to the deduction for the reason of her wounds. "Child, you should not anger your brother if you wish not to feel his wrath, he is the rightful heir. You wish to help your brother do you not?"

Daenerys looked at him with little emotion. "Yes I do," She whispered with empty words.

"Good," Illyrio smiled with delight as he began to guide her towards the doorway. "We mustn't stay here long; there will be grave danger if others were to discover our presence." As they left the safety of the ship, enclosed within a small cove, several horses lay in waiting. Clad in only her ethereal gown and a blue, fur-lined cloak, she was helped onto a large black horse. Her hands tightened around the reins, as her brother rode past with a knowing smirk. Daenerys urged the horse on to follow her brother. Hours seemed to pass until they reached a small castle, they were greeted by an old friend of Illyrio, escorted through the castle walls and soon they were situated in their rooms before gathering in a hidden room where three large spheres lay. Instantly, Daenerys felt a tug at her heart, as if invisible strings were attached between her and these three oddly decorated stones.

"My princess," Illyrio began with a look of wonder. "This is my gift to you; these were once dragon eggs, hardened over the centuries to stone."

As if spellbound, Daenerys stepped forward, brushing her fingers across the dragon eggs, a light seemed to spark to life inside her. Turning, with the faintest of smiles, one which truly reached her eyes, she spoke, "Thank Illyrio, I'm honored."

"Now there's a smile, make sure you smile from Khal Drogo when you consummate your marriage, dear sister," Viserys enlightened mockingly, waving his hand dismissively to the guards as he laughed quietly watching the smile instantly fade from her face. "Come, a bride needs her sleep before her wedding. Tomorrow we will leave to return to Pentos and Illyrio will host the wedding." He smiled cruelly as he and the older man left the room, leaving Daenerys alone with her eggs.

"You have restored some hope in me," Daenerys whispered tenderly, pressing a hand over one of the eggs. "As long as I keep that hope shining, there is light for a better future, isn't there?" She questioned the stone eggs, a tiny sliver in her willing them to respond to her words.

* * *

It was deep into the night when Daenerys snuck out from her bed chambers, dressed her in her flimsy gown, a large bag hung across her body and her cloak was wrapped securely around her. She flinched when the door to the hidden room groaned in its old age as she pushed it open gently. There lay her precious eggs, with swiftness she slipped them into the back one by one. She was startled by their lightness, comparable that of a feather, was there really nothing left within its beautiful shell? Despite it all, something deep within her compelled her to them. Leaving the room quickly as she had come, she slipped out past the weakly guarded castle, many of Illyrio's guard had remained back to protect the ship. Maybe the gods had taken pity on her; maybe she was to be caught and punished for even thinking of running, maybe was too weak now to stop her. She would no longer be a pawn in this game for the iron throne. Arriving into the stables, she took the largest and fastest horse and clumsily saddled him in her haste. There was only a single torch at the stable entrance illuminating through the darkness. Stepping on a nearby stool, she struggled onto the large horse, with a labored breath she situated herself in the saddle and urged to the horse to move, with reluctance the stallion paced forward.

"Please, move quickly," Daenerys whispered in urgency, as if sensing her desperation, the stallion grunted lowly, picking up his pace.

"Leaving so soon?" A hiss slid through the air, Daenerys was instantly shaken to the core. The petite blonde's eyes widened, her head whipped over her shoulder with a horrified gaze, lips parting in a silent scream at the sight of her infuriated brother. His lips twisted into a cruel smile, "Why do you look so shocked? Did you think I didn't consider the possibility you'd run? I must admit it was a small consideration, I never thought you'd have the insolence to try." Viserys titled his head tauntingly, committing the shattered expression of his sister into his memories.

"I won't be your pawn any longer, dear brother," Daenerys spat with vile.

Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, eyes liquid-like while teardrops clung to her eyelashes and slid down her face, reflecting the flame of the torch. With a swift movement, the Targaryen princess grabbed the torch tossing it with all her mustered strength to the floor at her brother's feet, the flicker of fear in his eyes as the hay caught fire was enough give the rebellious blonde a glimpse of courage. The gate guards were too alarmed by Viserys blood-curdling cries to make sense of what was happening as they hurried to the stables only to see the black stallion bolt through and out the gate entrance. Even though she knew at the moment deep down she was rotting from her decision to leave, she pushed the stallion on further. The adrenaline in her veins was quickly beginning to fade, she didn't know for how long she had been blindly riding away further into the darkness. The cries of castle guards that had begun to chase after her had died away, now all that drowned her ears was the howling of the violent gusts of wind that tore away at her body as she headed further north. A part of her wanted to cry out for her to die and drown out all the feelings that continued to torment her. She was broken from her daze when the stallion whinnied in exhaustion from its perilous sprint through the blackness. It dug in its hooves, coming to a staggering halt. Daenerys nearly doubled over its neck as collapsed back into the saddle, exhaling the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"I'm so sorry," Daenerys murmured stroking the black horse's neck. After a moment, she urged the horse forward to a quickened trot. A single, silent tear spilled from the corner of her eye, her voice soft and even, "It's just the two of us now."

* * *

How long had she been riding? When did she last eat a proper meal? When did she last have a chance to rest? She couldn't remember. It must have been nearly several days. Her bones and stomach were aching. But there was nothing out here besides the forest and flittering debris surrounded them. Her eyes, though cold and distant were filled with an intense sadness. She took in the silence of the forest that surrounded her. Darkness thrived here in the soulless and weeping forest.

Daenerys's dress was tattered. Rips and tears scattered over various areas, revealing glimpses of the damaged skin beneath. Blood slowly trickled and dried from any open wound, and bruises, both old and new, dotted every expanse of her uncovered skin. The only part of her that had managed to remain almost completely undamaged was her face. Not even her greatest adversary would dare to mar the beauty that rested there.

She had no idea where she was or where she was going, she had only stopped for a few moments at a time to truly rest, to allow the horse to eat some grass and drink water at streams. The young blonde would continue on through the night, wavering between consciousness, fear continued to drive her on. The furthest part of the earth would never be far enough to settle her quivering heart. Eyes bleary with exhaustion, she didn't see the flash of white strike from below against the horse. The stallion reared up in a strike of alarm, throwing off his startled rider, Daenerys's lips parted in a silent gasp of fear as she was thrown unceremoniously to the ground with a stifled whimper of pain. Her body felt like a wavering reed, collapsing like a dead weight when she tried to sit up. She had struggled to her knees as she tried to understand what had occurred. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins masking any pain she felt. The stallion reared before bolting away through the forest.

Scrambling to her feet, Daenerys cried out, "No don't go!" It was then she heard the sounds of spitting growls emerge from the forest, the sight before her made her blood run cold. There stood two medium sized wolves. She held their fierce stares with one of her own; she didn't flinch when she heard the clatter of their teeth as they bared their fangs. She took three steps back, only to find her back against the wetness of a tree bark.

Two figures emerged from behind the wolves, both in garments of fur and leather. The first had short dark brown wavy hair, a stern expression. The second quickly caught her attention, he stood out, a dark mass of black curls that could leave any woman envious, and piercing dark eyes similar to that of the wolves. He stepped forward, sword drawn until it rested against the delicate crook of her neck. Her breath hitched in her throat for a moment.

"Who are you?"" He demanded at once, voice strong. The two starred each other down, neither willing to show an ounce of weakness. His dark eyes narrowed, pushing the sword deeper into her skin, almost slicing the pale region. "I said who are you?"

After a moment, her eyes tapered, "My name is Daenerys Stormborn Targaryen."

The sword slowly slid down her skin to the base of her collarbone, she ignored the pain as blood began to trickle from the torn skin. The man before looked stunned as did his friend, both exchanged rapt glances.

"We must take her to father," The other man spoke briskly; he shot her a cold glare as he turned and began to trek back into the forest. She felt a sharp jerk of her arm, unable to stifle the small hiss of pain that escaped her lips. She felt the man's eyes on her, she looked up icily, she was taken back to see a glimmer of apology in his gaze. It disappeared as quickly as it had come.

"Come on," He spoke with a newfound gentleness to his voice as he began to guide her by the hand in the direction his friend had taken.

"Where are you taking me?" Daenerys managed to whisper with a determination that startled both of them.

The man shot her a frosty glare, "No talking."

"But," She began.

"Quiet, prisoners don't get to ask questions," The brown-haired man snapped, as he appeared through the trees mounted on a horse and leading another. "She'll ride with you Snow."

Without another word she felt herself airborne as she was seated on the horse, he quickly mounted behind her with a fluid, graceful motion. He gathered the reins at her side as if to block her. Daenerys looked at him over her shoulder with wide, questioning blue eyes. With a swift nod to each other, both men took off into the forest, the two wolves following close behind. With the sudden jerk of the horse's motion, Daenerys found herself thrown back into the broad chest of the man behind her.

"I'm sorry," She murmured quickly.

"Think nothing of it," He merely replied, he only glanced down at her once before the horse began to gallop faster, reaching the other's side in a few, easy strides. The young princess was suddenly thankful for his arms at her side. Her body ached more painfully then the last as they galloped through the forest and into an open field, there was a large castle. It was then it struck her, she knew this place from her studies, the insignia on the flag.

Winterfell.

* * *

End of Chapter!

I hope you all enjoyed and please **review** for feedback and if you'd like a quick update! I appreciate feedback it helps motivate me to write! Thank you everyone who took the time to review!


	2. The Starks

**A/N**: A big thank you to: Luwen, Vic, Hf, Northlane, Undergrounddirector, Chronos the cookie thief, Lu Mach, Rosatella, Chrisguy9017, Bruinfan, and Mewootwoot for taking the time to review, I appreciate it a lot!

Bruinfan: They returned to Westeros because Illyrio had left the dragon eggs he was going to give Dany on her wedding day there with a friend, it was mentioned in one of the early paragraphs in chapter 1. It was one of the changes I made.

_Chapter 2: The Starks_

Read. Relish. Review.

* * *

"Are you going to kill me?" Daenerys questioned quietly, and the dark-eyed man seemed taken aback by the indifference in her voice. She could almost taste the surprise in him, and she didn't dare take a glance at him.

"I don't know, it's for Lord Stark to decide," His brown eyes flashed with a flicker of remorse unnoticed by her.

"I see," The Targaryen princess murmured. "May I know your name? If I am to die, I'd like to think I knew one person among the nameless at my death, even if only by name."

"Jon Snow."

"Thank you," She whispered softly.

They galloped in silence; Daenerys felt her pound painfully against her ribcage as they approached the Winterfell gates. Her breath hitched in her throat, her mouth ran dry, and she found it difficult to suddenly breathe. The adrenaline had completely subsided and she felt the full force of the pain she had pushed to the back of her mind as they entered through the gates. A wave of nausea overwhelmed her as she quickly pressed a hand to her stomach, she bent forward at the waist, clenching her eyes shut, willing away the awful feeling. Jon halted the horse at her sudden action; he felt a surge of pity for the young girl. He leapt off his horse, it was then he got a good look at her, the girl was shining blonde hair and stormy blue eyes. At first she barely looked older than his sister Sansa, but then he glanced down further, she was definitely no girl. He offered her a hand; she looked at him warily before taking it as he helped her down. Hit by a wave of dizziness, she suddenly clutched his hand tightly to steady herself.

The brown-haired boy stalked towards them, a stern expression masking his face of any emotion as he spoke coldly, "You wait here."

The pain wasn't as she had deciphered it. The pain wasn't so much that she couldn't handle it. No, she could handle it, she knew she could. Standing in the center of Winterfell, people began to gather, their hushed whispers rung in her ears, the stares of shocked realization quickly overturned to ones of scorn.

The whispers quickly died down when the brown-haired man reappeared, a beautiful woman with fiery locks and a strong, sturdy man stood behind him, many guards flanking their sides. The people quickly parted, the circle of bodies circling her expanded as the man she understood to be Eddard Stark stood imposingly over her. She expected to see contempt and disgust in his gaze, but she was surprised to see his eyes were unreadable; she could only make out the subtle hint of curiosity in his stare. He nodded towards Jon as he moved away to join the side of the brown-haired man. Daenerys felt a sudden sense of melancholy at the loss of his presence and warmth, she felt bare in front of the many pairs of scornful eyes.

"Daenerys Targaryen," His deep voice spoke her name with no disdain. "You're quite far from Essos."

"We should burn this Targaryen bitch!" A man shouted with sudden vigor, riling the crowd behind him.

"Silence, your lord is speaking!" One of the guard snapped immediately quieting the crowd.

Flashing the man a glare, Eddard returned his sight to the petite blonde. "You made a very foolish move coming to Winterfell."

"That was not my intention," Daenerys quickly interjected.

"Shut up you Targaryen slut!" A man yelled.

"Kill her!" A woman hissed.

"Sentence her to death for what the Targaryens' did to Lord Stark's family!" Another man sneered.

Daenerys shifted her weight to her other foot trying to ignore the pain, a hardened look to her angelic features. "Am I to be punished for the crimes of my father? A man who died even before I was born, I am too blamed for the wrongdoings I had no part taking in." Her bold, sweet voice rang out in her ears before she could even think.

"She's right," The fiery-haired woman pointed out gently. "Besides, she is more useful to us alive."

Eddard seemed to consider her words a moment before turning his penetrating stare back on her, "Where's your brother? Does he have an army waiting for us somewhere out there? Tell me the truth, what are you doing here."

"No, I don't know where my brother is now. I ran away from him and our guard."

Eddard raised a brow, "Why? Is this some trick to gain our trust?"

"He was planning on marrying me off to Khal Drogo, the leader of the Dothraki people in exchange for using his men as a part of his army." Daenerys spoke, her voice hollow. "I no longer wished to be used a pawn in his game, so I fled."

Whispers of shock began to rise among the crowds of people; Eddard exchanged glances with his advisors, who merely nodded. She could vaguely hear the red-haired woman whisper, "Ned, she's only a child." Daenerys's gaze flickered towards the Jon Snow. She couldn't make out the impassive expression on his face; she'd only seen his brows hike up into his hairline momentarily in the corner of her eye.

"Daenerys Targaryen, I do not condemn for the actions of your father. I am known to be a fair man, but I hope you can understand I cannot allow you to leave Winterfell. King Robert is coming here in two months' time, and he will be the one to ultimately decide your fate. Until then you shall remain here, you will be treated with respect and dignity, I promise you in the name of House Stark." Eddard's authoritative voice resounded as if he was speaking more to his people then her, she could barely pick up the underlying threat in his words as he addressed the crowd. "However, there will be a guard at your side day and night in case you may try to run."

Daenerys was taken aback by his words, the pitch of her voice was lower than before, her tone quieter and softer, "Yes, I understand, thank you for your kindness, Lord Stark."

Eddard merely nodded to her words, "Alright, that's enough for today, you may all return to your work." He said to his people as everyone reluctantly began to disband, soon she stood alone with the Stark family. His voice lowered, almost kinder, as he approached her, "My son, Robb, will show you to a room in the castle." She nodded meekly, as the man with short brown curls stepped forward, so he was Lord Stark's son, she almost wanted to laugh at the irony of it all.

"Come on," Robb nodded towards the castle, she followed in silence. As they passed, Robb glanced towards Jon as if signaling for him to join them. As they entered the castle, Robb quickly navigated through the maze of halls at a quickened pace. She was finding it difficult to keep up through her exhaustion; Jon seemed to sense her struggle.

"Robb," Jon called to the fur-clad man ahead, he paused and turned to look at him. Daenerys could easily make the warmth Robb held in his eyes towards Jon, the same warmth most siblings would share. "Slow down, she's exhausted."

The young Stark's eyes narrowed slowly into a soft glare, "Fine, try and keep up." He murmured before continuing on, but slower.

"Thank you," Daenerys said in a weary, low voice.

Jon offered her a sympathetic glance, "Think nothing of it."

They arrived at the end of a hallway; there was a single window to offer light. Robb opened the door and entered the room, it was simple, a bed lined with fur pelts to offer warmth and cold nights, an elegantly crafted chest at the front of the bed and a single table and wardrobe to place clothing.

"This will do for the time being," Robb began calmly. "The maids will help clean you up, and we'll have our tailor make you proper clothing for the north. If you stay in that flimsy article of clothing you'll die of cold before nightfall." Daenerys looked down at her tattered dress, he was right; she could already feel the chilling bites of the north air against her skin. She heard a soft shuffle behind her, the murmur of whispers and another voice hissing for the other to be quiet. The Targaryen princess's brows knitted together in confusion. She heard Robb sigh in obvious amusement, "You can all come out." The door creaked softly, as four figures emerged from behind it. Jon smiled with a glimmer of warmth in his eyes at the sight of the four children. Robb nodded towards each one, "These are our siblings, Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon Stark."

The youngest girl, with dark brown locks similar to Robb spoke up, she radiated innocence and a fiery spirit as her eyes shone with excitement. "Are you really a Targaryen?"

"Arya, shut up!" Sansa barked as she nudged her younger sibling with her elbow.

Daenerys smiled at her childish look of wonder, "Yes, you can call me Dany, if you'd like."

"Dany," Arya rolled the name on her tongue for a moment before nodding with a brilliant smile. "I'm Arya."

"Pleasure to meet you," Traces of a faint smile touched Daenerys's lips as she stood there captivated by the small girl who emitted so much vivacity.

"So, what they say is true, a dragon has entered the den of the wolves," A new voice spoke up, seven pairs of eyes looked up to see a young man standing in the doorway with an arrogant smirk. He bowed down mockingly, "Theon Greyjoy."

Robb rolled his eyes, "Let's go, I'm sure Daenerys is tired. Jon will help you settle and the maids will be down soon." He said as he ushered his siblings out the door despite their protests, he shut the door behind him and soon both were left alone, surrounded by the silence of the room.

"Have you brought any belongings with you," Jon asked, hand resting against his sword, Daenerys drew her cloak closer around her body to conceal the brown bag.

Her eyes slit open a little, a hint of blue between her lashes as the quickly answered. "No, I didn't."

He looked at her suspiciously before merely nodding, "I was surprised to find you out there in the woods. I never thought I'd meet a Targaryen."

Looking up at him briskly, the petite blonde was definitely surprised by his words, but she recovered just as quickly. "We're not exactly a thriving species," Daenerys joked lightly, Jon cracked a small smile. "May I ask you a question?"

Jon raised a brow, but he his wariness had seemed to somewhat fade, as he relaxed his shoulders. "I suppose, if I may ask one in return." Daenerys released a small laugh, but nodded.

"Robb, referred to the Stark children earlier as your siblings as well, but you don't share their name." The blue-eyed blonde slowly began to trail off awkwardly. It was more of a statement then a question. "I'm sorry, that's quite rude of me to ask such a thing."

"No, it's alright," Jon's voice rattled the young woman from her thoughts. "Your assumption is true. I am Eddard Stark's bastard son."

"I'm sorry," Daenerys whispered softly.

Jon shook his head, "There's nothing to be sorry for; my birth wasn't something I had control over."

She hesitated for a moment, the strident of her voice wavered, "I can only imagine what little comfort those words can provide." The tenderness in her voice startled him, the security he felt from it frightened him.

Clearing his throat, Jon quickly changed the subject, turning questioning eyes on her, "Why did you really run away?"

She didn't respond for over a minute, just stood there watching him. Mutely she was glad he could not see her eyes clearly, she didn't want anyone to see the new darkness lurking there whenever she thought of her brother. "My brother is a cruel being. He said he'd allow Khal Drogo's whole tribe rape me, all forty thousand men and their horses too if that's what it took for him to get his army." She answered bleakly, she was too tired and weak from running, to broken with the loss of the only family she'd ever known despite his malicious intentions, to withdrawn to feel an ounce of remorse for her brother. "I didn't want to be Khal Drogo's queen, but my brother refused to reconsider. I wanted to be my own person, I wanted my freedom, I chose to fight for myself, and so I ran."

There was a knock on the door, gaining both their attentions. Three maids stood quietly and patiently. Jon nodded towards them as he turned to leave, pausing to look at the Targaryen heir over his shoulder with a look of empathy. "I can't guarantee your protection in the months to come, but for now you're safe." Daenerys looked up startled by his words, watching his broad back disappear through the doors. The maids shuffled into the room, all adorning kind smiles.

"Let's get you cleaned up my child," The eldest one spoke sweetly, fine gray hairs becoming visible on the crown of her head. "Until the tailor is able to make your clothing, you'll have to make do with Lady Sansa's garments I'm afraid."

"That's fine, thank you." Daenerys spoke appreciatively as the women guided her towards a connecting room to her room. Had that door always been there? Once she entered, the second maid, a brunette began to run a bath. She was ushered into the tub, she relished in the inviting heat of the steaming water. The third maid began pouring water over her head with bucket. The water caused her hair to plaster to her face, and droplets began to form on her lips. The blood and grim covering her form was washed away, her body warmed, releasing some of the burden she carried, even if only for a moment.

Hours later, after scrubbing her filth covered skin until it burned red, washing and brushing her hair until it shined and was silky to the touch, Daenerys changed into a loose sleeping gown. The maids had cleaned up, gathered her dirty clothing, one maid went to grab her brown bag.

"No, please leave that be!" Daenerys almost shouted, ripping the bag out of the maid's reach and pressing it protectively against her chest. The three women exchanged confused glances before nodding.

"Try and get some rest now milady," The older maid persuaded. "We shall return before the sun sets and help you get ready for supper."

Daenerys nodded mutely to her, the maid simply smiled as she began to take her leave, as the door opened, the petite blonde could make out the silhouette of a guard standing off to the side. She sighed as the door was shut and she was truly alone. Turning to the chest, she bent down on her knees and opened it; sliding out the dragon eggs one by one she placed them gently into the chest.

"You'll be safe here," Daenerys whispered to them.

Closing the chest, Daenerys crawled into the bed, slipping beneath the large pelts of fur. She was instantly met with welcoming warmth, coaxing her into a gentle sleep she could not fight. Before she drifted off, she offered a small prayer to the gods. Soon her mind was encased in a dream she'd dreamt many times before, of a black-haired man with piercing brown eyes.

At least for now she was safe.

* * *

End of Chapter!

I hope you all enjoyed and please **review**, the more reviews the quicker updates! I apologize if this seemed a bit rushed or the characters seem OC, I have seen all seasons once already, but I have watch them a few times to really learn the character well so bear with me. I tried to portray the characters as how they came off to me.


	3. Song of Sleep

**A/N:** A special thank you to those who took the time to review, I hope to add in other perspectives in later chapters, right now my main course is to develop Daenerys to become stronger. I do apologize if this seemed a bit rushed, since I'm starting from the beginning of the first season basically, I'm trying to push it along a little quicker to when King Robert comes, Jon and Dany's relationship is still going to be developing even from then. So, I hope nothing felt too rushed in this chapter between them. I wanted to move the story along, but still keep their growing relationship paced. I am still weighing the possibility of adding a lemon, but if I do, it was only be of their first time together because I want it to be a tender moment; I'm still on the fence about it.

As for the characterizing, some people thought Robb would've been a lot nicer to Dany, but to me, I think him being the eldest and knowing more of the history between their families, he would be a bit wary, and not overly kind to her in the beginning. To me, Dany would have to slowly gain his trust and along with that his kindness. This is what this chapter and next chapter were mainly about, the developing relationship between her and the Stark children. I wanted to show a few different relationships, so I hope they came off as realistic and enjoyable. Thanks to everyone again who reviewed! If you have any questions or would like an explanation on anything, please feel free to pm me! Now onto the story!

_Chapter 3: Song of Sleep_

Read. Relish. Review.

* * *

Two weeks had passed since her arrival to Winterfell, many of the days in the first week she kept to herself locked away in her room, but eventually she had begun to wander out among the people of Winterfell. She had grown close to the younger Stark children, Arya especially. The young girl held an inner radiance that simply drew people in. Daenerys lay against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling of her room as her thoughts swirled through the past few weeks. Had she been the same at Arya's age? She was full of life and vibrant as the colors of a setting sun. The young Targaryen held a special place in her heart for the young Stark girl. Maybe it was because life had breathed into her the spirit she wished for, maybe it was because she was so bold and resilient, whereas she herself has never been until recently, or maybe it was because it she held the innocence she once craved so dearly.

Stifling a sigh, Dany turned onto her side, burying her face into the softness of the pillow. The first storm since her arrival struck hard against the ceiling of the quiet castle. The echo of rain combined with the barrage of thunder rumbling in the distance of the night sky left little to be desired. Flashes of light coiled around her body in the precarious of ways, the shadows across her face, the floor and furnishings left a depressing weight upon her skin. The soft creak of a door startled her, blue eyes instantly flickered up in surprise as Dany sat up quickly, broken from her stupor to see the form of a young child in the darkness. It wasn't until the haze from her vision cleared did she recognize who it was.

"Rickon," Daenerys spoke in surprise, brows knitting together in confusion. "What are you doing up at such an hour?" He sniffled; at his side was a small black wolf, his hand clutched a clump of the creature's neck fur while the other rubbed at his reddened eyes.

"The storm scared me," The young Stark murmured, almost in embarrassment. "Shaggydog led me here." Blue met green as Daenerys glanced at the lithe direwolf. "Can I stay here, just until the storm passes?"

Daenerys's gaze instantly softened, shifting over in her bed and removing the blankets aside and padding the empty spot beside her, "Of course you may, you are welcome as well Shaggydog." As if understanding her words the young direwolf leapt gracefully onto the bed edge and lay down. She ruffled Rickon's hair affectionately once he was nestled in beside her. They watched silently as particularly violent arc of zigzagging lightning illuminated the night sky. A grim expression graced her face as she offered the boy a comforting smile, "I don't think you'll be getting much sleep tonight, little one."

Rickon seemed to process her words for a moment before blinking up at her, "Could you tell me a story?"

Gingerly Dany brushed his bangs from his face, "What kind of story would you like to hear?"

"A happy one." Rickon beamed with a sudden excitement, "A story of a gallant knight."

The sound of her sweet laughter filling the room was enough to sooth his troubled mind. Dany lay on her side, head resting against her propped hand, "Would this gallant knight be a future little lord I know?"

His eyes brightening with wonder at her words, "Maybe, I haven't decided yet, I'll know at the end of the story."

"Alright, let's see," The young princess began with a gleam of mirth in her eyes. "This story is called The Littlest Knight. Long ago, a young boy lived in a small village. He was a kind boy with a noble heart. But, you see the other villagers looked down upon him, he wasn't of a highborn house, just stable boy." Dany spoke, her voice trailing off into a saddened softness, there was solemnness in her gaze, an almost faraway look in her eyes. A familiar face came into her thoughts as she continued the story. All his fears forgotten, Rickon focused solely on her; soon she reached the ending of the story. "The young stable boy ended up saving the entire village, despite all the townspeople's scorn; he still retained a sincere heart. Because of that heart and his will to help others, the village was saved from the flood and he became the littlest knight for his bravery." A gentle smile lit up the blonde's face. "So you see, you can't allow fear to overwhelm you. When you do, that will be your downfall."

Rickon tilted his head curiously, "I don't understand."

"Each one of us carries a star within our hearts," Dany explained as best as she could.

"A star?" The young stark whispered in awe, "Even me?"

"Of course, everyone does. Light and darkness always accompany each other, without one the other cannot exist. But if you let the darkness know that you are afraid of it, the darkness will become powerful and swallow you up." Daenerys began warily, her eyes filled with warmth for the little boy. "Rickon, if you don't want to be consumed by the darkness, then you must make sure the star in your heart is always shining brightly."

Glancing down at his chest, with one hand he padded at the area where his heart could be found. "How do you know if there is a star in your heart?"

"The warmth you feel in your heart is proof that your star is shining brightly," Dany whispered tenderly.

"How do I keep it from disappearing?" Rickon asked sleepily as he yawned and rubbed his eyes tiredly, snuggling further into her comforting embrace before he began to drift into a blissful sleep. His earlier worries long gone as Daenerys reached down to smooth his unkempt hair with gentle caresses.

"Your star will never stop shining," She assured softly to the sleeping boy.

A few moments later, Rickon's peaceful breaths could be heard in the room. The soft taping on the door gathered Daenerys's attention as she turned briskly to see a familiar face lit by a small flame lit lantern. Allowing her pounding heart to regain its calming rhythm, she offered him a small smile, "Jon, you startled me, how long have you been standing out there?"

Jon entered the room, placing the lantern on the nearby table. "Long enough, I found Rickon wandering the halls, I thought he was sleep walking at first so I followed him here, seems the guard had fallen asleep on duty."

Daenerys's eyes widened slightly as realization dawned on her. Her voice was soft and just above a whisper, "You heard everything?"

A teasing smile lit up his handsome face, "Every single word."

"I'm so sorry," Daenerys smiled sheepishly. "I should've checked for the guard to escort him back to his room, but I just couldn't turn him away."

Jon came to sit at Rickon's side, she could easily make out the tender affection he held for his slumbering brother in his intense brown eyes. "It's nothing to fret about, Rickon has never liked storms. He used to sneak into my room in the middle of the night during a storm."

Tilting her face upwards, her stormy blue flickered towards him, "Used to?" The dark-haired Stark looked at her almost helplessly, unsure of what he could do or say to avoid speaking about it. Her gaze instantly softened with traces of compassion. "It's alright; you do not have to tell me. I can only assume it's not a particularly pleasant memory."

Jon's hands tightened to fists at his sides as he slowly shook his head. "Lady Stark found out and put a stop to it," He offered a small explanation, the small strident of forlorn in his voice didn't go unnoticed by her.

"I'm sorry," Daenerys whispered gently, she leaned out to give his hand a comforting squeeze; it was the only source of solace she could think of to offer him.

She looked up, taken back to see the grateful look on his face, it left her short of breath for a moment, just as quickly she withdrew her hand and averted her gaze as Jon spoke quietly, "There's no need to be sorry, and I've gotten used to it over the years." She didn't respond for a long while, just sat there watching him. What could she say? No words that could ever truly provide comfort would come to mind. Her lips parted, but no words came. Pressing her lips into a firm line, she could only muster a tiny, sad smile of consolation. As a silence fell over them, Jon cleared his throat, standing and glancing out the window, the storm had finally settled. Dany followed his line of vision; the image of falling rain drops greeted her. Definitely rain, she thought as she smiled a little. The sky had lightened to a gloomy shade of gray. The two watched it rain, surrounded in a content silence. The musical dripping of the droplets after the violent storm was welcomed. Slowly Jon turned to look at her, cloaked in a veil of brilliant shades of gray. "I should go," He spoke quietly, almost cryptically as Dany merely nodded. His glanced down at his slumbering brother, silently offering to take the young Stark back to his own room.

Daenerys reached out to tuck the blanket around Rickon; he had pushed it away while shifting in his sleep. "Leave him be, I'd feel horrible disturbing such a peaceful face." Jon looked at her hesitantly, Dany rolled her eyes. "Do you think I'd harm him in his sleep?" She questioned teasingly, Jon huffed a small laugh.

"No, of course not," Jon answered easily, despite his smiling face Daenerys could see the ghost of a flash of mistrust in his eyes he tried to keep hidden.

"He'll be fine, I promise," Dany murmured with a solemn expression.

"I know," Jon reassured her of his trust, with a small nod he turned to leave, pausing to stroke the head of the black direwolf. "Goodnight."

Dany looked thoughtfully, "A bit early for that now, don't you think?"

The faint traces of a smile were noticeable on his lips as he mused gently, "It would appear so." He cast a lingering glance at the Targaryen princess once more before leaving the room, softly shutting the door behind him.

Daenerys slowly looked up at the door a moment later, the room suddenly felt very empty, she whispered quietly, "Goodnight, Jon Snow."

* * *

Sunrise came far too quickly for Dany's liking, the silvery blonde squinted as the sun's rays shone through her window and blinded her, and she turned away and tugged the large pelt over her head. The moment she began to settle into her sleep the pelt was ripped away, in her surprise, the Targaryen heir sat up abruptly to see the smiling face of Rickon.

"It's time to get up, Dany!" Rickon burst out with a smile bright as the sun.

The door burst out before she could respond to the young boy, Bran, Sansa, and Arya ran in with their direwolves not far behind. Arya beamed to see the blonde awake, "Oh good, you're up!"

"Rickon, mother's been searching for you everywhere!" Sansa chided gently with a stern expression.

The young Stark crossed his arms, "I've been here the entire time."

The young red-head rolled her eyes, "Yes, but mother and father did not know that. They feared something may have happened to you."

"I'm fine," Rickon argued childishly.

Sansa walked over and took her brother by the hand and began to guide him out of the room, "Come on, let's go show mother you are safe and sound." With a small pout, Rickon followed after his sister, Shaggydog was instantly at his heels.

Noticing Daenerys's guilt-ridden expression, Arya leapt onto the bed, "Don't worry, Jon told father earlier Rickon had come here."

"And they weren't angry?" Daenerys ventured unsurely.

Arya blinked in confusion, "Of course not, why would they be?"

Dany smiled lightly, "It's nothing."

"Would you like to come riding with us today, Dany?" Bran asked with a hopefulness underlying his tone.

Her lips parted before closing, her brows pressing together, "I don't know."

"Oh, please do!" Arya begged with wide eyes. "Robb got father's consent for you to join us."

The faintest traces of a smile manage to cross Daenerys's lips, but not without obscurity. Deep down she knew why Lord Stark had been so quick to give his approval, Robb would be joining them, and in return he would he watching her. She understood, truly she did, but she could not help the prickle of sadness in her chest at the thought. A feeling of envy seeped into at the children's obliviousness, she wished she could once again see the world through the eyes of a child, when everything for a time appeared harmless and a sense of security seemed boundless as the sea.

"Alright, I'll meet you at the stables in a few moments," Dany said sweetly as both Stark siblings exchanged smiles and hurried out of the room, calling for their direwolves as they did. The Targaryen heir sighed amusedly, "I guess breakfast can wait."

* * *

After a quick bath, and change of clothing, Daenerys made her way down to the stables, a guard not too far behind. She now adorned boots the color of ivory that supported a small heel reaching just below her knees and a dress of a dark blue similar design to those of Sansa, which had a rich thickness to prevent the loss of body heat and a pelt fashioned as a cloak. Her hair was gathered elegantly into two braids intertwining at the back with her golden waves hanging over her shoulders and back. She tried to ignore the lingering stares of the Winterfell people, some mesmerized by her beauty others twisted with scrutiny.

"Dany," Arya called across the courtyard. Daenerys turned to see the young Stark waving her over, Robb had paused from saddling a horse to follow his sister's line of vision; his eyes seemed too wide for a moment.

Clearing his throat as he broke from his stupor, he nodded to the guard, signaling him to take his leave. Turning to young Targaryen he padded the bay horse's neck. "This is Thorn, he's a bit older, but reliable."

Dany nodded, he was a bit smaller than the other horses, but he seemed to have the attitude to make up for it as he whinnied and prodded his head in a bobbing display, "He has quite the character."

Robb cracked a smirk, "That he definitely does."

"Will the little dragon be joining us?" A teasing voice interjected from behind them, all three turned to see Theon sitting smugly on his chestnut stallion, leaning against the horse of the saddle with a raised brow. "Are you sure you'll be able to stay in the saddle?"

Daenerys smiled, unfazed by his remark, "I'll manage fine, thank you for your concern. But in all honesty, it's you I'm worried for." Jon who had been helping Bran saddle up his gray pony, laughed along with Arya as Theon's smile immediately faded into a frown, Robb tried to stifle the smile that threatened to tug at his lips. Soon, everyone was situated in their saddles, aside from Rickon and Sansa, who had preferred to work on her needling. Daenerys watched Robb nod to someone in the corner of her eye, as she looked over her shoulder, and saw it was Eddard Stark, who stood from the terrace watching over the courtyard. The older Stark man gave a small incline of his head towards his son as Robb gathered the reins in his hand and led the way out of the gates. A sudden weight fell heavily in the pit of her stomach as she squeezed her legs to urge the horse into a canter.

They reached a small clearing, deep in the forest; only the high towers of Winterfell were now visible over the forest horizon. Immediately the boys dismounted, tying the reins to nearby trees. There was a large fallen tree to one side, by a pile of medium sized rocks.

Dany watched Robb, Theon and Jon withdraw their swords, each boasting a superior look to the other. She leaned over to Arya, who trotted over to her side, "What are they doing?"

Arya rolled her eyes in exasperation, "Robb and Jon usually use riding as an excuse to go into the forest to practice their swordsmanship. Mother isn't always too keen for them to practice with unsheathed swords in the courtyard near Rickon, Bran or I." The petite blonde only nodded returning her gaze to the three northern men; she was surprised to see Robb watching her. It wasn't a stare of mistrust or suspicion, but something entirely different, she couldn't quite her finger on it. The moment she caught his eye, he looked away. Turning her horse around, Arya announced with a sudden seriousness to her voice, "Dany and I are going to go riding like we told father."

Robb shook his head with a playful smile to his sister, "Don't go too far, I don't want to tell father we need to go searching for you if you get lost."

Arya cast him a taunting glare, "I know these woods like the back of my hand."

Jon laughed, "Well then off you go." Arya gave him a cheeky smile before she began to trot off to the opposite direction, brown and blue eyes locked for a moment, but it seemed to linger for much longer as Jon looked at Dany, his smiled a crooked smile, one that left her captivated briefly. "Dany, hurry!" Arya called over her shoulder as the young blonde guided the horse to follow after the younger Stark; she glanced over her shoulder at him once more fleetingly before ushering the horse into a gallop to catch up with Arya. After a short gallop, both girls slowed to a walk, basking in the dappled sunlight from beneath the trees. Arya broke the silence, "May I ask you a question?"

"There is no need to ask," Daenerys reassured the young girl.

"Do you have feelings for my brother Robb?" Arya blurted out all at once, leaving Dany speechless as she arched her brows. Arya blinked sheepishly, "I know it's a bit abrupt of me to ask."

"N-no, not at all," Daenerys trailed off. "I can't say I do. Why do you ask?"

Arya gave a defeated sigh, "Because I think he likes you."

Laughing, Daenerys shook her head. "What gave you such an idea?"

The young brunette shrugged informally, "Sansa seemed to think so, and she said something about the way he looks at you or speaks about you was different. I'm not quite sure what she meant."

"I see," Dany mused more to herself.

"Either way, falling in love is such a silly thing to do," Arya enlightened with a shrewd expression. "Only idiots fall in love."

The Targaryen heir smiled in mirth, "That's not entirely true. It can be a man or woman's greatest strength or weakness. Love in its purest and simplest form is the most beautiful." With a teasing gleam in her eye, Dany riposted, "Without love you wouldn't be here today."

Arya rolled her eyes childishly, "I suppose, but the way Sansa moons over Prince Joffrey is sickening."

Daenerys offered her a sympathetic smile, "You'll understand when you're older."

Her expression twisted to one of disdain, "I don't think I want too."

Before either girl could react, three burly figures suddenly charged towards them with weapons raised, causing their horses to rear up in alarm, Arya shrieked as she was thrown from her saddle, Daenerys fought back a groan as she fell to the ground, her eyes were clenched tight in pain as she rolled onto her stomach, favoring her side. She flinched as pain throbbed in her ribcage; she forced herself up, looking for Arya who scrambled to her side as they stared down the three wildling men.

"Well what do we have here?" A voice sneered; Daenerys shielded Arya to her, eyeing the disgusting men lined with tattered and grubby pelts of fur.

The second man held the horses by their reins, "Oh, she's a pretty one alright." He eyed the Targaryen princess up and down before licking lips; Dany was overwhelmed with disgust at the sight of them.

"I wonder how she's in bed," The third man roared with laughter, reaching out a filth covered hand towards Arya. "Come here you little brat!"

Dany slapped his hand away, and snapped, "Don't touch her!"

The man merely laughed, "Oh she's a feisty one!"

"I'm claiming the blonde as mine, you two can decide on the brat!" The first man snapped.

"What?" The other two shouted in unison. "Why do you get to choose first?" The demanded together.

Arya glared at them, "If you lay a hand on us, you'll have to face my father, Lord Stark!"

All three men laughed, "Oh did you hear that? Her father is Lord Stark?" The smallest of the three men jeered with a twisted look on his face.

"I don't see him anywhere," The first man smirked arrogantly; he ensnared Dany by her wrist, ripping her away from Arya.

"No, let her go!" Arya shrieked out, trying to grab Dany's outstretched hand.

"Arya, run!" Daenerys cried, as she was snatched violently towards the disgusting man. She stumbled; falling against his chest, a putrid stench instantly assaulted her nose as she tried to wrench her wrist free. His fingers were already tucked beneath the skin of her arm as he dragged her back towards him. She yelped as her wrist was twisted painfully against her back. Arya gasped as the third man made his way towards her, she tried to clamber away, and she screamed he grabbed her by the back of her tunic. "Stop it, you're hurting her!"

"Today's our lucky day fellas," The man holding the horses chuckled darkly.

"You smell so good," The man hissed into Dany's ear as he skimmed his nose along her exposed neck, with a muffled cry she tried to jerk away from him, but to no avail. He only proceeded to twist her arm in a painful manner.

"Let go of me!" Daenerys bristled with anger as she stomped on his foot with the heel of her boot.

He grunted in annoyance, his temper quickly flaring, "I'll make quick work of you!" He snapped as pulled the noose of his pants free with his other hand.

She tried desperately to pull away as tears welled in her eyes as she heard his ruffle of his pants as they crumbled to the ground at his ankles She was unceremoniously forced to the ground onto her back, she struggled against his grip as he crawled on top of her, capturing a few precious locks of hair into his fists, as she cried out in pain. "No!" Daenerys shrieked as tears spilled from the corner of her eyes. The wildling man only laughed cruelly as he compelled her arms onto the ground.

"Stop it, please!" Arya begged as she watched on helplessly.

The body above her suddenly collapsed on top of her like a dead weight as Daenerys cry was muffled by his leather clad shoulder, but the snaring hold on her wrists slackened, she quickly ripped her arms free, trying to shove the limp body off, to her surprise it was lighter then thought. Her chest rose and fell with labored breaths; her cheeks tear-stained, the sight that greeted her were of concerned brown eyes. She felt a warm wetness seep through her dress, she looked down to see her once blue dress was marred red with blood; splatters covered her arms and face. Daring a look at the lifeless body at her side, she saw the puddle of crimson liquid forming around his slit neck.

"Are you alright?" Jon demanded as he knelt at her side, his bloodied sword in one hand, the other pressed against her shoulder.

Her voice fell silent, her mouth running dry as a lump formed in her throat, she held back the fresh tears that threatened to fall. "I-I'm fine," She managed to whisper out.

Seeing her shaken, Jon wrapped an arm around her shoulder, drawing her in to his chest and she did so willingly. She pressed her forehead against her shoulder, her face burying into the crook of his neck. "It's alright, you're safe."

"Dany," Arya's cried out as Daenerys slowly pulled away from Jon to see the young Stark heir at Jon's side, immediately she embraced the little girl into a hug. "I'm so glad you're okay!"

"Me too," Daenerys whispered with a shaky sigh of relief for the young girl's safety. She looked out past her shoulder to see Ghost standing over a body, his fangs and muzzle smeared in blood, the wildling at his paws eyes were wide with shock and mouth opened in a silent scream, his neck torn gruesomely, she could make out the raw appendage of his throat hanging nimbly from the white direwolf's mouth. Robb's direwolf sat beside the third wildling, vigilantly watching its body as if could jump back to life any moment. His leg was contorted in a grotesque position, and gut has been ripped open in a grisly manner, his intestines fell out from all edges. Dany's stomach churned at the sight as a wave of nausea hit her. Robb and Theon came bounding through the forest seconds later on horseback, taking in the scene.

"Arya!" Robb hurried to his sister, scooping her up in a hug, the moment she was in his arms he was hit with sheer relief. "Thank goodness."

Theon surveyed the dead bodies, he smirked towards them, "Not bad, Snow."

"Are you alright?" Robb asked, pale with concern as Arya nodded quickly.

"I'm fine," Arya assured him. "Dany protected me from them. They almost raped her because of it."

Robb turned to look at her, sincerity rang in each word he spoke, "You have my utmost gratitude for protecting my little sister."

"Jon and the direwolves were the ones who saved us," Dany murmured, still in a daze. "Can we please go back to Winterfell?"

Robb merely nodded, lifting his sister into his arms and placing her onto his horse. Jon turned to look down at Dany, she seemed so far away. "Can you stand?" He asked her gently, she only nodded mutely. She got to her feet a bit shakily with Jon's help; he hoisted her onto his horse before sheathing his sword and mounting the stallion behind her. He glanced at her worriedly, motioning the horse into a quick trot.

* * *

They reached Winterfell before sunset, Eddard stood in the courtyard with an anxious Catelyn. Both of their tensed bodies relaxed with relief at the sight of their children. It wasn't until on closer inspection they noticed the blood covered girls and their grim expressions.

"What in the seven kingdoms' happened?" Eddard demanded as Robb halted his horse before his father, his guard stood nearby. "I had half my guard looking for you all!"

"Arya," Catelyn called as she whisked past her husband and pulled her daughter off the horse and into her awaiting arms. "Why are you covered in blood?" The dread that flooded the fiery-haired woman's face was enough to kill any sane mother.

"They were attacked by wildlings," Robb explained gravely. "Daenerys protected Arya from them before Jon and the wolves arrived to save them."

"Wildlings?" Eddard whispered with morbid composure. "Arrived to save them? You weren't with them?" He demanded as his eyes widened with fury. "Where were you?"

Robb was unable to meet his father's stare, Theon quietly cut in, "We were practicing our swordsmanship while the girls went riding off." Bran slowly nodded from beside him.

Catelyn held Arya close, she looked at the stupefied Targaryen heir, "What's wrong with her? Is she wounded? She's covered in so much blood!" Her eyes were littered with motherly concern.

"One of the wildlings' almost raped her," Jon explained carefully.

Dany looked up meekly, locking gazes with Eddard. He nodded, "You have all of Winterfell's gratitude, especially mine for protecting my daughter. I am indebted to you, Daenerys Stormborn. Is there any way we can repay you?"

Dany shook her head slowly, "I'd just like to rest."

"Of course, the maids will see to you immediately," Eddard nodded hastily calling for them. Jon watched, as the maids escorted Daenerys back into the castle, Sansa and Arya close behind. Everyone had begun to disband, quietly whispering among themselves. Catelyn had turned to leave, when Eddard called her back. "Cat, don't you think Jon deserves our thanks for his bravery?" There was a steadiness to his voice as he looked at his wife patiently. Jon's gaze shifted from his father to Lady Stark, surprise lighting up his face.

Catelyn turned to look at him, behind the scornful look was a flicker of gratefulness, "I cannot thank you enough, Jon, for saving Arya." There was a genuine kindness to her words, but he could also tell they were a bit forced, her hands were knotted together at her waist, a clear sign of the difficulty she had in thanking him. Jon only nodded speechlessly to her, after a moment, she turned and entered the castle.

"I'm proud of you son," Eddard spoke, patting his child's leg as he sat on the horse. There was a heaviness in his voice, almost one of guilt. "I know I don't tell you that enough." He said more quietly, patted his one more and offering a remorseful smile as he turned to follow his wife back into the castle.

"Good job, Snow," Robb smiled as he rode to his side, despite the teasing tone of his voice, his smile and eyes were filled with boundless warmth for his sibling. Jon only offered a half-hearted smile.

* * *

Dany was still numb with the altercations of what had happened despite scrubbing her skin raw in her bath, dry of ambition and frozen in spite. She could feel herself sink into her bed when she exhaled a long, miserable breath. The soft knocking on her door drew her attention.

"Come in," She said gently, the door opened to reveal none other than Jon. Daenerys quickly sat up, eyes alert.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright," Jon spoke as Dany smiled faintly.

"I'm fine," She murmured. "You were very brave today."

Jon cracked a crooked smile, "It wasn't anything Robb or Theon wouldn't have done, I only happened to arrive quicker than them."

"Not everyone has the strength to be that strong in those kinds of situations," Dany objected as Jon looked at her, startled by her words. "If you had been a moment later, I would've…"

"Don't think about it, Daenerys," Jon told her firmly, the sudden bout of seriousness in him took her by surprise. Her gaze softened as she nodded.

"You have yet to call my Dany," She mused thoughtfully.

Jon chuckled, "If that's what you'd prefer."

"It is," Daenerys insisted, and Jon nodded to her request.

"Alright, Dany," His voice wrapped around her name so tenderly, something simple as saying her name shouldn't have sounded so startling coming from his lips, it tore a line of tingles down her spine. "You should get some rest. I can't just ask you to forget, but try not to let it get to you. I promise that'll never happen to you again."

As he turned to leave, he was drawn back by Dany's sweet voice, "Thank you, Jon."

He turned with a small smile, "Think nothing of it." She cracked a smile as he left her room.

She crawled into the inviting bed, wishing to sleep away the horrid nightmare of it all. Pressing her cheek against the cool pillow, sleep came quickly, it was the same dream as always, the man in a fur lined cloak, dark curls and piercing brown eyes bore into her.

* * *

End of Chapter!

I hope you all enjoyed and please **review**! This is the longest chapter I've ever written, eleven pages, definitely exhausted now. I can't guarantee many chapters will ever be this length.

**A/N**: As for Dany's talk with Rickon, it was basically her trying to explain a person has the ability to choose whether to be good or bad in a children's explanation, and that if he wants to be good he can't allow darkness to take over ie. greed, power..etc. So hopefully that was able to come across relatively easy to most!


	4. A Man's Lament

A/N: The first bit is just some insight on Jon's thoughts of Dany. For those who have not read my profile: Any incomplete stories are on hiatus indefinitely until each chapter receives 10 reviews. Not saying I won't update them eventually, but the _**"read and reviewed"**_ stories get updates first. Thank you.

_Chapter 4: A Man's Lament_

Read. Relish. Review.

* * *

**Jon's Pov**

In one swift moment, he had forgotten where the line between right and wrong was drawn. Weeks earlier he had been so sure of himself, so ready to pass off the Targaryen heir as just another prisoner, and then he was lost in her gaze. Unlike many in his life, she played no tricks. Despite her position as Winterfell's captive, she had found the smallest of beauty in every situation. It anything, it was mostly why he had been so drawn to her from the very beginning.

Unlike Lady Stark, who, just with a single look at him in her tedious eyes told him she wanted to ruin him, or Sansa's pity, and Arya's unwavering respect, Daenerys's gaze glowed with welcoming warmth even in their first meeting, she had held no contempt, no sympathy, just preservation.

Two week had passed since their altercation with the wildlings, in that time, the old Daenerys had slowly returned to him, the lively shine in her blue eyes, the sweet smile on her lips, and the vibrant spark in her voice. Since then, they had grown closer, many nights in secret had been spent sharing stories of their pasts, or just filled with laughter of nonsensical conversations of anything and everything, and he relished in them all. Every teasing smile, comical expression, and spirited laugh was engraved into his mind permanently.

The need to see her face lit up by a virtuous smile had become necessary, a habit even, or else he could not feel accomplished. Somewhere among these moments, he found a true sense of belonging. However, if he were to proclaim a point in which this silent war truly began he could not say, it had snuck up on him, appeared without a beginning as it had been soundlessly lurking somewhere in the deepest depths of his mind and heart. At first it petrified him, such a powerful feeling had emerged out of nowhere, but as he had begun to know her, offer her his trust, remove the cold wall piece by piece surrounding his heart, he was able to accept it with general ease.

But now dare he say it, had be begun to fall in love with the Targaryen girl with shining blonde hair and stormy blue eyes? He was not well versed in the feeling of love, never had he felt such a strange torrent of emotions. What if she had left, would the feeling fade along with her departure as simple lust? Or would it last and grow stronger, more intense? Could he truly call it love? He could not say.

* * *

**Viserys Pov**

A large ship rocketed in the Narrow Sea, swaying idly with the gentle lapping of waves. The sun was high in the sky, no single cloud in sight; the shoreline of Pentos was slowly coming into view. Down below the deck, the Targaryen dragon was seething. The sudden shatter of a vase against the wall startled one of the guards' who stood outside cabin door.

"That little bitch!" Viserys snarled, his hands tangling in his hair with a maddened look upon his face. "I'll kill her, that's right; I'll kill her if she isn't dead already!"

"Milord, you must calm yourself," Illyrio soothed as he tried to reach out to the Targaryen heir.

Viserys smacked his hand away, a cynical look in his blue eyes, "Don't lay a hand on me unless you wanted it ripped off! You only had a simple task, marry Daenerys to Khal Drogo! Now we have no bride, no dragon eggs, and I've lost any chance of gaining an army! It's your entire fault; you should never have taken her to Westeros with us!"

Illyrio remained quiet a moment longer, his eyes narrowed dangerously, "If I do recall, bringing her along was your idea milord."

Viserys scowled at him as he quickly covered up, "It doesn't matter now does it. She's gone!"

A knowing smile slowly emerged on the merchant's lips, "Maybe not, milord."

"What?" The older Targaryen's whisper was low and controlled as he eyed the elderly man. "You best not be tricking me."

Illyrio removed a small piece of parchment from his sleeve, "I received this from a raven this morning. It seems there has been a sighting of our missing princess in Westeros."

Snatching the flimsy piece of parchment from his hand, Viserys eyes quickly skimmed over the few sentences written. "It doesn't say where, all it says is she was headed north! We already nearly a month looking for that stupid girl, how could we have missed her?"

Illyrio sighed in exasperations, "We were limited in our areas to search milord, we couldn't risk someone noticing you and reporting back to King Robert. There are many small villages she could've hidden in. I'll purpose to Khal Drogo, if he still wants hers that he shall accompany us to Westeros to find her and then they can return merrily to Essos."

Viserys remained skeptical, "You think that barbarian will go along with it?"

Illyrio chuckled darkly, "Milord, you only begin to imagine how captivated he was by her on their meeting. I can guarantee his cooperation. Once the Dothraki come to Westeros we can search the north effortlessly with all one hundred thousand men, you will have your army at your command, two birds taken with one stone. You regain your crown, and Khal Drogo receives his khaleesi."

A brightness entered the Targaryen heir's gaze, an eccentric smile tugging at his lips, "You are brilliant, Illyrio! How long will this plan of yours take?" He demanded at once.

"A month at least," Illyrio explained, looking over a map of Essos. "The Dothraki tribes are spread widely across Essos, it will take time to assemble them all to one location, and they will not be cooperative without Khal Drogo on our side."

Viserys glowered, "I want to begin as soon as we reach the port."

"Of course, milord," Illyrio assured.

* * *

**Normal Pov**

To most, sunrises brought the comfort of having a clean slate, the promise of a new day and a new hope. She had often longed for that feeling of wholeness and peace that others had taken from a still moment as this, but it never came to her. To Daenerys, it was a reminder that the gods were always watching her and debating her future; a bleak reminder that her days may soon be up. She was broken from her stupor at the sound of rushing footsteps outside her room door. The door was flung open as Bran and Rickon appeared.

"Dany, will you be watching me practice my archery?" Bran asked with a smile mimicking that of a sunbeam.

Instantly a smile lit up her lips, "I'd be honored to, Bran."

Rickon ran up to her side, wrapping his small hand around hers, giving it a small tug with an excited smile on his face, "Come on, Dany!" She laughed, allowing herself to be guided out to the courtyard by the small Stark boy, Bran at their heels. Her boots clacked against the wooden steps as they arrived at the archery range, several targets were set up, quivers and bows stacked neatly side by side. Her smile softened when to see Jon setting down a barrel full of arrows, he turned, surprised at the sight of her, but he cast Dany a crooked smile, the one she loved so much. Robb and Theon appeared around the corner, laughing amongst themselves before reaching them.

Robb smiled and nodded towards her before turning his attention to his younger brother, "Are you ready, Bran?"

"Of course I am," Bran's voice rung with confidence, but his gaze remained uncertain.

"Maybe we should do a little warm up first," Theon suggested, grabbing a bow. "At least that way Bran can get an idea of what stance he should take."

"I've seen plenty of people fire arrows," Bran argued childishly, Jon ruffled his hair playfully.

"Relax Bran, he's just teasing you," Jon smirked towards the young Greyjoy. "You can't be worse than Theon; he has the worst aim of anyone here." Dany pressed her lips together trying to stifle a laugh when Theon's once smug expression vanished to a look of annoyance as Bran glanced up at Jon with a grateful smile.

Theon scowled at the young Targaryen, clearly irked. "Think you can do better than me?" He challenged mockingly.

"I meant no disrespect oh great archer," All four siblings burst into a fit of laughter at her teasing words.

Theon was silently fuming, "Come on, let's see what you can do, little dragon."

Daenerys arched a fine brow, "Are you sure?"

"Of course I am," Theon snapped, grabbing an arrow from the barrel as everyone stood on in quiet anticipation. Releasing a deep breath, the young Greyjoy took his stance, after a pause, the arrow thrust forward, five pairs of eyes turned to the target, and the arrow had landed an inch from the center of the target. With a smug expression, Theon handed off the bow to the blonde-haired heir, "Your turn, do you need some pointers before you begin?"

Tilting her face upwards, Jon was surprised to see her brilliant blue eyes never waver from the fierce stare they now possessed. The once calm, impassive gaze she held earlier was now a figment of his imagination. "I'll manage," Dany reassured. Theon raised a brow at her sudden strength; vaguely he wondered what she was thinking about. Stepping past him, she retrieved an arrow and took her stance, from beneath her long lashes; she glanced at Jon before turning back to the target. Pulling the arrow back with a graceful bend of her arm, she paused a second, before her fingers let go and the arrow darted forward and straight into the center of the target. Turning briskly, she smiled pleasantly at Theon, "You were saying?" She mused teasingly, Theon glared at the brothers, daring any of them to laugh, Robb turned away with a hand pressed to his mouth, and Jon just shook his head with an amused smile.

"Alright, it's my turn!" Bran pushed past Robb and grabbed a bow, Theon snorted before taking his leave into the castle. Dany moved to stand at Jon's side. Feeling new pairs of eyes watching, as she, Robb and Jon turned to see Eddard and Catelyn watching from the terrace. Releasing his first arrow, it shot into a nearby barrel.

Jon leaned over, and rested his hands on his brother's shoulders encouragingly, "Go on, father's watching." Bran looked over his shoulder at his parents, his father nodding for him to continue. "And your mother," Jon murmured.

On his seventh shot, Bran released the arrow and sent it sailing over the barrier fence. Robb chuckled quietly to himself, Jon and Rickon laughed, as Bran scowled. Daenerys smacked Jon on the shoulder playfully. "Don't laugh," She scolded gently as Jon placed his hands up in mock defense, he smiled warmly at her.

"And which one of you was a marksman at ten?" Eddard questioned from above the terrace. "Keep practicing, Bran. Go on."

Jon leaned forward, "Don't think too much, Bran."

"Relax your arm," Robb instructed.

Before he could release the string, an arrow shot passed them and into the center of the target. Dany and the three brothers turned sharply to see Arya standing with a bow in her hand; she smiled, offering a small curtsy. Bran chased after her as she gasped in surprise and took off, the Targaryen heir laughed. Is this the warmth a true family held? Her smile slowly faded, as her thoughts became consumed by her own upbringings. From birth, she and her brother had been on the run after being exiled to Essos. The only family warmth she had known was the rare occasion of her brother's kindness, even that was scarce on a good day. Here, the Stark children thrived; every day was spent creating new memories, filled with genuine laughter and warmth. Rickon helped her to clean up as Robb retrieved the arrows. She had not noticed the sudden absence of Eddard as he was called away. She watched Rickon run off towards Jon, giving him the arrows, her smile instantly faded as she saw the exchange between Jon and Lady Stark. Feeling the sudden weight of eyes burrowing into him, he hesitantly glanced up to see the repulsion in Catelyn's cold gaze. He looked away after a moment, placing the last few arrows into the barrel before storming off towards the stables. Daenerys watched on helplessly, her blue eyes flickering up to look at Lady Stark's retreating form. Dropping the bow, she hurried after him, not noticing Robb watching after her.

She slowed from her run as Jon entered the stables, shoving an open stall door shut with all the force he could muster in his fist. His head was bowed, shoulders rigid with tension.

"Jon," Dany called softly, she approached him when he didn't turn to answer her, his hands falling limping at his side.

"I'm sorry," Jon murmured after a moment. "You shouldn't have to see me like that."

Reaching out, he felt the brush of her warm fingers against his hand, slowly drawing it up and weaving their fingers together and squeezing his hand. She gave it a small tug urging him to turn to her, and he reluctantly did so, though he didn't meet her eyes. Lips pressing together in a frown, her other hand stretched out to gingerly brush a few stray curls from his eyes before caressing it down his face to rest on his cheek.

"Don't turn away from me," She whispered soothingly. "Let me share your feelings, your pain."

Jon looked down at her, his gaze unreadable, "It's my pain to bear alone, Daenerys."

"Dany," The young Targaryen chided tenderly with small traces of humor in her gentle gaze. Jon mustered a barely there smile for her benefit. "Remember what you said to me the night after the wildlings attacked us?" He remained silent. "I cannot ask you to just forget, but do not allow it get to you. You are the bravest, kindest man I know, Jon Snow. That means more than some highborn name. If you had been born a Stark like your siblings, you would not be the same man who stands before me now." She lifted their joined hands, pressing her lips against the back of his hand, pulling away slowly to look him in the eyes. "I think the world would suffer greatly from the loss of such a noble hearted man."

"Daenerys," Jon's voice was the lightest of a whisper as he struggled to gather any words.

"Dany," She amended him teasingly.

Jon smiled ever so slightly, correcting himself, "Dany."

Before either could speak another word, they heard a voice shouting repeatedly from the courtyard, "Lord Stark!" Exchanging a quick glance, both released the other's hand, each supporting a look of reluctance that went unnoticed by the other as Dany looked down at their once joined hands. Jon's hand felt numb with the loss of her warmth.

"We better go," Jon spoke up, Dany only nodded in agreement. As she turned to head out of the stables, Jon's voice called her back. She half turned to look at him patiently; Jon's brown eyes were piercing, with sudden tenses. "Thank you." The young Targaryen beamed an angelic smile at him as they both made their way out to the courtyard to see one of the king's messengers on horseback. Eddard, Catelyn and his guard emerged from the castle.

"What news do you bring?" Eddard asked the messenger, who handed him a small scroll.

"There has been a change. His grace; King Robert will be arriving in two weeks' time," The young messenger informed Lord Stark. Daenerys's eyes widened, her lips parting slightly. The Stark children shared her sentiments as Lady Stark offered her a sympathetic glance. Her heart pounded against her chest painfully.

"It's going to be alright," Jon's whispered reassuringly.

"I hope so," Dany murmured in return.

* * *

End of Chapter!

I hope you all enjoyed and please **review**, hoping for 10 reviews until next update, thank you to all those who took the time to review, I appreciate it so much. I'm very busy and write as many chapters as I can in my free time and put a lot of effort into them, so having reviews really motivates and I feel my stories are truly being enjoyed by people who can take the time to write a few words of their thoughts on the chapter instead of just adding it to their favorite/alert list.


	5. Sin Under My Skin

**A/N**: I've been on the fence of writing a lemon for this story, so I want to ask all of you, would you like one? For those who think the Starks should have sent Dany away until the visit was over, I think Robert would have been more furious with Eddard, if he had eventually found he'd tried to hide a Targaryen from him, and others would say he was committing treason. Which is why I chose not to go that root, I honestly don't believe Eddard would hide such a big thing from his dearest friend, no matter how much he cared for Dany, Robert is still his king and friend.

_Chapter 5: Sin Under My Skin_

Read. Relish. Review.

* * *

Vulnerable. If there could only be one word for how she felt, it was that, and if she could select another; worried. Daenerys sat in her room, overlooking the courtyard, the moon nearly raised to its peak in the sky, there were still signs of life down below as servants of the Stark house continued the finishing touches for tomorrow, King Robert would be arriving. The servants carried torches as they scurried about like mice. Her hands were knotted at her waist; her anxiety would not be so easy to settle. A knock on her door startled her as her head rose abruptly with wide blue eyes, there stood Jon.

"Are you alright?" His quiet voice echoed into the silent room as he entered, his face illuminated by the fire lit lantern on her table.

At the sight of him her lips parted in surprise, before turning to a smile, "What have you done to your hair?" She tried to stifle a small laugh, all traces of her worry fading for a moment.

Jon rolled his eyes at her laughter, "Lady Stark was dead set we get prissy for the king." Dany stood, her dress pooling around her as she approached him, reaching up she ran her fingers through the short dark curls.

"I prefer them longer," Dany whispered with a sweet smile, locking eyes with him when his hand wrapped gently around her wrist and he leaned in. Her lips parted in a breathless gasp at their sudden close proximity. He saw all the sadness in the world splashing around in her eyes, but not a hint of weakness. Not one single drop. "Is something wrong?" She somehow managed to whisper out.

"Have you been crying?" Jon asked and she immediately withdrew her wrist from his grasp, she gave no reply, so he continued forth with caution, trying to offer reassurance. "Lord Stark won't allow anything to happen to you."

Dany murmured sadly, "How can I ask him to do such a thing, for me of all people? His sister, my brother Rhaegar kidnapped her, or at least that is the story I have been told. He died before my birth as did my father." Jon listened in silence. "My birth killed my mother, Viserys is the only family I ever had, and he is nothing but a monster. Being here, this past month is the closest I have felt to having a true family. How can I allow the king to condemn them for protecting me?"

"Dany," His voice wrapped around her name so tenderly again. "That is what a family does; they protect those they care for." She mulled his words over in her head. He hesitated for a moment before reaching out a hand to cup her cheek gently, her eyes fluttered shut, tilting into his touch, reveling in his warmth. Jon lifted her chin to meet his strong gaze. "I would never allow anyone to harm you, I promise."

"I know," She spoke almost as a whisper with the slightest of waver of emotion in her sweet voice. The soft padding of feet quickly drew them apart as they both turned to see Rickon standing in the door way, sleepily rubbing his eyes.

"Dany," The young Stark child mumbled tiredly. "Can I sleep here tonight? I had a bad dream."

Daenerys tried to smile, "Of course, little one." She ruffled his hair affectionately as he approached her, his hand reached out to clutch the skirt of her dress as if the steady himself in his sleep spell. Lifting him into her arms, he immediately nestled his face into the crook of her neck.

"I should go," Jon murmured patting his brother's back tenderly. He paused at the door, watching as Dany set the sleeping child onto the bed and tucked the pelt around his small form. Feeling his lingering stare on her, she glanced over her shoulder to look at him, and he offered her a small smile. "Everything will be alright." She smiled back; his words alone seemed enough to settle her quivering heart. He turned to leave, shutting the door behind him. She stood there for a few moments staring at the door, her hands joined at her waist, a longing look in her blue eyes. Lying in bed, she stared up at the ceiling, waiting for tomorrow to come. Her mind was floating on the outskirts of darkness, barely moving here or there until she finally surrendered to sleep.

* * *

Daenerys was awoken, vaguely hearing some snap quietly, "Go on, Rickon, mother's looking for you!"

"Alright, must you be so bossy, Arya?" Rickon's remark was indulged in his innocent, childish voice.

"Yes, I'm older, now go on!"

Rickon huffed at his sister, nearly shouting before marching off, "Fine!"

"Come on, Dany, it's time to wake up!" Arya's persistent voice could be heard coaxing her from the edge of her bed.

"A few more moments," The silver-haired blonde murmured half-stirred, trying to shoo her away.

Sighing, Arya stalked to the front of her bed, eyeing the chest, "Maybe you have a dress in here you can wear? Mother is helping Sansa get ready for the king's arrival. I don't understand why everything must be so extravagant, or why we must wear these god awful dresses." Annoyance seeped into the young Stark's voice, a sleepy smile emerged on the young Targaryen's lips, she could easily imagine Arya's irked gaze as she pulled at the charming dress she now wore as per Lady Stark's orders. It wasn't until she heard the reluctant groan of the truck opening did her eyes widen with alarm, she shot up in bed, lips parted in a silent cry of the girl's name. She watched dumbfounded as Arya stared into the chest speechless.

"Dany, what are these?" Arya whispered in wonder, slowly picking up the green dragon egg. Her eyes darted up to lock onto her face, looking for any signs of understanding.

Reaching out a shaky hand, Daenerys slid out of the bed with cautioned motions, as if a sword was held to her throat, threatening to slice her neck if she made a wrong movement. When she reached the young Stark's side, she kneeled on her knees by the chest's side, glancing at her other two precious eggs. With morbid composure, she whispered, "Arya, you mustn't tell anyone what you have seen today, do you understand? Not a single soul."

Her silence was not long lived as Arya nodded zealously, "I promise."

Sighing, Dany gently took the egg from her hands and placed it back into the security of the chest. "Thank you, Arya."

"What are they?" Arya questioned quietly, but she already knew the answer.

All traces of emotion drained away from the Targaryen princess's face as she whispered, "Dragon eggs."

"Where on earth did you find dragon eggs from?" The excitement that swept in her did little to bottle her sprouting curiosity.

Dany smiled softly, reaching out to tuck a stray strand behind Arya's ear, she could hear approaching footsteps as she shut the chest. "We'll speak later on the matter, I promise. But for now, you must keep this to yourself and not tell anyone, or they may be put in great danger."

Arya's shoulders slumped, as she nodded reluctantly, "I promise."

"Good, now off you go," Daenerys ushered her with a gentle nudge. "I'm sure your mother hasn't quite finished getting you ready."

"You didn't need to remind me," Arya gave an exaggerated groan at the thought as she hurried out of the room, the young Targaryen laughed at her antics, her smile disappeared as she looked down at the closed chest, her fingers gingerly skimmed the cover.

"Be safe my little ones." She whispered warmly as she saw the handmaidens scurry in the help her get ready.

* * *

Here she stood with the entire mass of Winterfell, Eddard's sturdy form in front of her as if in a way to offer her protection. She could feel all the Stark children glance at her here and there, once Lady Stark had smiled faintly at her, offering a nod of encouragement before turning away. Her cloak hood was raised, to obscure her from direct recognition of the king on his arrival. The thundering of hooves echoed closer as gallant stallion appeared from the gate supporting banners. Dany felt a spike of anxiety surge through her, her lips pressed into a tight frown. She then felt the subtle brush of fingers against her own, discreetly glancing to her side, she found Jon looking on straight ahead. The young Targaryen managed to muster a smile at his gesture to offer her comfort. It had been the faintest of touches, barely a graze of their hands, but it meant the world to her. The whinny of a black stallion drew attention; her breath hitching in her throat, there sat his grace, King Robert. Her gaze became downcast as he hugged Eddard, it was almost as if she could feel his heat radiating through the Stark lord, threatening to consume her at any moment. She heard him greet the Stark children as he was passing Sansa to return to Eddard, she heard his heels dig into the ground, raising her eyes ever so slightly she could see him staring at her, suddenly he looked deadly pale.

Pushing past Eddard, he snatched at her arm and she let out a small gasp, her hood fell, revealing her silvery gold hair, Robert's grip tightened on her wrist. He yanked her towards him and she gave a small whimper, Dany heard everyone begin to whisper, heard Lady Stark's horrified inhalation of air. "What is this?" His voice was low, dry of all humor he once possessed. Her glared with such spite, and she stood without ever faltering. "Ned, what is this?" He yelled like an eagle about to dive for the kill.

Arya quickly turned; her eyes wide and bumps already visible on her forearms arms. Dany watched as Sansa placed a hand on hers in an effort to tell her to stay, and Arya was too afraid to disobey. The Targaryen heir, glanced at Jon, his hand twitching achingly to pull out his sword, but the pleading look in her eyes refrained him from doing so.

"Robert," Eddard spoke quietly, Robert paused in his eyes. The look in the Stark's eyes wished he'd stop and let her go. Robert knew it then. But with all the power in the world, Eddard could not find the words to command him so, he couldn't speak to his king in such a manner, and he didn't wish to cause a further scene. It was then, seeing her eyes so full of fear that helped him in his search for words. "Robert, let's speak of this in private."

"Ned," Robert muttered sharply.

"Robert, please let her go," Eddard replied quickly and coldly. The two men stared each other down for a few more moments before Robert released her with a small, harsh shove. His eyes were harsh upon her, like the dagger that had stabbed, and the whip that had lashed. Turning to his old friend Eddard nodded towards the crypt, "Come." Catelyn, Arya and two handmaidens quickly escorted Dany to her room. She walked with her head down and her arms tucked in as if to protect her heart. She did her very best to stifle any noises, although Jon could hear her sniffle then and there.

* * *

"What is this Ned; is some trick? She's a bloody Targaryen!" He made sure Eddard heard the venom in his voice.

"She's an innocent child," Eddard snapped back. "She's not responsible for her father's crimes, Robert."

The king's eyes looked murderous, "Have you forgotten what her father did to your family? What her brother did to me?" He did little to hide the rage in his stare as he shouted.

"Of course I haven't!" Eddard snarled, cutting his breath in two. "But, she is just a child. This happened before her birth. Killing her will not bring Lyanna back, Robert."

Robert's gaze became animalistic, he whispered carefully, "Don't you dare go there, Ned."

"You are my king, my friend, my brother," Eddard said quietly, his expression solemn. "I beg of you to show her mercy."

"Why? She's nothing but a filthy, inbred Targaryen whore!" Robert spat with vile. "She'll succumb to the Targaryen madness like her fool of a father soon enough."

"She fled from her brother, Viserys planned to marry her off to some Dothraki Khal to gain an army to reclaim the iron throne, and she ended up here in Winterfell, and she's become like a daughter to me." Robert seemed slightly taken aback by the openness and indifference of his oldest friend's response. "She saved my daughter from wildlings, and she was almost raped for it. Does that speak of madness to you? I ask you again for the mercy of an innocent child, Robert, please reconsider."

The confliction was clear in the king's eyes, "And what will you do if I choose not to reconsider."

"I will fight to protect her," Eddard spoke without a flicker of emotion in his tone or face. "I promised her that no harm would come to her. I will not have the blood of an innocent girl on my hands."

"You would fight me, for a girl you barely know, whose father murdered your family and brother took the love of my life away?"

"I would."

King Robert glared at Lord Stark, "So be it."

"Thank you, Rob-" Eddard stopped himself as his dear friend looked at him with deadly calm.

"Do not thank me, Ned." Robert spoke darkly. "If I see an ounce of madness in that girl, I will have her head; I will do it personally, and mount her pretty little head on a spike in King's Landing."

* * *

"Dany," His deep voice always sounded so soothing when he spoke her name as he entered her room, he found her sitting near the window, with a faraway gaze. She lifted her gaze and found his brown eyes like it were a force of habit to stare into them. The silence was always what killed him.

"Jon, I'm fine," Daenerys tried to force a smile, but it never reached her eyes. She tried not to move a muscle or look at anything in particular, and she hid her reddened arm beneath her cloak.

Storming over to her side, he gingerly grabbed her hand, easily fighting off her resistance to show him. Jon's eyes skimmed over the scratches on Dany's arm, the painful red folds in her pale skin that the king had pressed in with his hand, and there was something melancholy in his gaze. "You're not okay." Dany's gaze never left the floor.

"I don't blame the king," The Targaryen heir whispered meekly. The gentle tremble in her voice was enough to gain his attention. She looked at him then with watery eyes. Dany hated to cry and willed the tears to stay back with every bit of strength she had. She tried to find fortitude in his piercing eyes.

Jon instantly embraced her, resting his chin on the crown of her head as the young blonde buried her face into the crook of his neck, he could feel the warmth of her tears seep into the cloth of his shirt. If she could be as strong as him, facing the world would be a whole lot easier. But she was not as strong as Jon, and maybe she'd never be, but even his fearlessness would not last long against her malevolent memories.

Slowly he drew back, his large hands cupped her cheeks, and his thumbs delicately wiped away her tears, "I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise."

Dany shook her head, her hands coming to rest against his arms, "I don't need protection, I need to be strong for myself, and you've helped me to gain that strength."

Jon leaned forward, pressing his cool lips against her forehead tenderly, Dany relished in the feeling of his warmth, she felt the gentle whisper of life's breath fill her ears as he whispered, "You've always been strong, Dany."

"Dany, where are you?" Arya's voice ricocheted down the halls, echoing closer with each footstep.

Daenerys closed her eyes, savoring the few moments they had left before the young Stark would appear. Slowly, with a heavy heart, she drew away, smiling at him kindly, "Thank you." She whispered, just as Arya bound through the door, her eyes shining with excitement.

"Come on, Dany, the party is beginning!" Arya beamed, grabbing the blonde's hand.

Dany glanced over her shoulder at Jon, he offered her a smile. "I'll be coming shortly." The young Targaryen could only nod as Arya led her away with vigorous tugs.

She could not prepare herself for what was to come.

* * *

End of Chapter!

I hope you all enjoyed and please **review**! Thank you everyone so kindly for all the reviews, I did not expect to receive so many. I appreciate all the feedback, it made me want to write all the more quickly to update for you! Thank you again!


	6. Moon as Our Witness

**A/N**: I'm going to be away for work this week, so I'll be slowly working on chapter seven, when I find time available and will most likely update sometime after this coming Sunday! Thank you for being so patient with each update! So, I added a bit of Tyrion in this chapter and I tried to do my best take on his character I could, he's still quite new to me to write about his character, so I hope I did him some justice.

_Chapter 6: Moon as Our Witness_

Read. Relish. Review.

* * *

The great doors parted before Arya and Dany and they began their way inside. Every hall was swarmed with conversation and laughter. Circular shafts of iron in the high ceiling held rows of flickering candles, lighting up the room with a welcomed dim glow. Torches marked the hall paths towards the banquet hall, but the room was so vast that Dany began to feel eyes were watching her from the darkness, looking up, it was then she saw her, the queen, immersed in golden attention, eyeing her. Maybe it was only the anticipation of the night that teased her nerves into knots, but the faint voice that told her she should not have come was plenty unsettling. Still, she was determined not to let Arya see that she was second guessing herself. The young Stark's excitement was contagious.

Tugging her by the hand, Arya guided her to two empty seats among the many rows of tables. "Come sit with me, Dany." Daenerys could only smile as the young girl patted the empty spot beside her. "I'm famished!"

Dany pressed a hand against her hair in tender affection, "You have been running around quite a bit." She teased as Arya stuck her tongue out playfully, as the young Targaryen laughed. Time passed, soon Robert's drunken mirth filled the room as he ogled and mingled among the maids. She looked around the room, there was no sign of him; the one person she wished so dearly to see. "Where's Jon?"

Arya shrugged casually, "I haven't seen him." Her voice was low, Dany looked at her, eyes widening in shock as the young Stark flung a piece of porridge, Sansa's shriek echoed through their table as Theon and Robb burst into laughter.

"Arya!" Sansa hissed angrily, glaring angrily at the young girl. Everything seemed to happen quickly as Robb shuffled by, scooping up his young sister and escorting her towards the hall, Dany had seen Lady Stark's horrified gaze at her daughter's actions.

It was then she felt a hand press gingerly against her shoulder, and she looked up in surprise, there stood Eddard, offering her a small smile. "May we speak in private?" He managed to whisper among the hollering voices. Dany only nodded as she stood and followed him into the hall and to a quiet room.

"Is everything alright?" Dany ventured carefully.

Eddard sighed, "It depends on how you look at it. In a few days, I will be leaving to King's Landing, King Robert has requested for me to be the Hand of the King." He watched as her brows drew together, he could see her mind working through her eyes, swirling through his words, slowly he continued. "I will be taking Arya and Sansa with me, King Robert has requested your presence as well, Daenerys."

Her blue eyes immediately widened, her voice hovering on a whisper, "Is this because I'm a Targaryen."

"I wish I could say otherwise," Eddard spoke sympathetically. "When your brother kidnapped my sister, Lyanna, Robert has never forgiven your family for that. But, you will be under my protection. He is unwilling to allow you out of his sight now that he knows of your existence here in Westeros."

"I understand," Daenerys murmured, she gave a small nod and smiled. "You've already done so much for me, allowed me into your home, offered me your protection, you've given me more then I deserve. I am forever grateful for your kindness, Lord Stark."

Eddard could only smile sadly, patting her shoulder, "You have a good heart, Daenerys Stormborn. I hope it will not suffer more than it already has." Dany looked at him, startled by his words, as he nodded and turned to leave. She stood inertly in the silent hall, hands clasped together at her waist, staring into the darkness as it consumed Eddard's figure. Her lips twisted into a small frown, pale with uncertainty.

"Such touching words," A new voice spoke from behind her. "Eddard Stark has a way with words, don't you think so?"

Turning sharply, she saw a dwarf man guzzling down wine. Her blue eyes narrowed accusingly, "It's not polite to pry on another's discussions."

He chuckled, "My dear lady is it prying if I so happened to stumble upon this exact hall as you were speaking with Lord Stark? I am nothing but an innocent man in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Dany looked at him unsure, his words rung true with honesty, yet there was artificial humor in his eyes. Her voice softened suspiciously, she couldn't bring herself to trust this man, and she questioned, "Who are you?"

"I am Tyrion, son of Tywin of Clan Lannister." He gave a mocking bow, her blue eyes widened for a moment.

"I'm sorry," Dany quickly apologized. "I didn't know you were the queen's brother."

Tyrion chuckled, gulping down another swig of wine, "There's no need to apologize. Not many would choose to regard a dwarf as the queen's brother if given their own choice; many choose endearingly to refer to me as 'the imp' or 'the halfman'."

Compassion lingered in the young Targaryen's gaze, as she joked kindly, "I wouldn't say you are a dwarf, merely space efficient."

The dwarf laughed, "You are a clever girl, offering someone such as me such humility. In return I will offer you a bit of advice. I couldn't help but overhearing your predicament, I can only assume there is someone very dear to you here, and you are overwhelmed with sadness to be leaving them behind. Am I correct in this assumption?" Her lips parted, but no words came, her expression was withstanding of revealing little emotion. Tyrion simply nodded, "I'll take that as a yes. I advise you make the most of your time with them, once you reach King's Landing, there is no telling of what misfortunate that could overcome one in the absence of their loved ones." The eeriness of his words struck a chord within her heart. "Now if you'll excuse me, my belly is informing me of its ravenous hunger. I bid you goodnight my sweet girl." Dany watched him disappear down the hall, an unsettling feeling overcoming her. She turned hurrying out the doors. There was a single thought in her mind, a single image burning with vigorous light in her head. As she emerged in the courtyard, she could make out Jon swinging his sword against a sac tied to a post, as she went to approach him, a horse galloped in.

"Is he dead yet?" An amused voice called out to Jon.

Jon immediately dropped the sword, a smile gracing his handsome face, "Uncle Benjen." He greeted as the two embrace, the love between them was clear a bluebird day.

"You've gotten bigger," He chuckled warmly. "I rode all day; I didn't want to leave you with the Lannisters'. Why aren't you at the feast?"

Jon's smile faded, a grimness entering his expression, his voice was low, she had to strain to hear, "Lady Stark thought it might insult the royal family to see the bastard in their midst."

"Well, you're always welcomed on The Wall; no bastard was ever refused to be seen there."

"So take me with you when you go back." Jon countered resiliently.

"Jon," Benjen murmured unsurely.

"Father will let me if you ask him, I know he will." She could vaguely hear his uncle's reply as Jon answered. "I'm ready to swear your oath." Daenerys heard Benjen explain to his nephew the difficulties of life on The Wall. Jon's next words struck her deeply and painfully. "I don't care about that."

"You might, if you knew what it meant." Benjen had caught sight of the golden-haired beauty; he glanced at Jon with a gentle smile. "I better get inside and rescue your father from his guests. We'll talk later." He assured him, he knew what his nephew wished to speak of. As he patted him on the shoulder, he made his way to the gates, pausing to offer the Targaryen princess a smile as he swept past her.

Suddenly feeling the Targaryen fire spark to life in her, she stormed towards him. "Were you ever going to tell me?" She spoke quietly, coldly. Jon turned in surprise to look at the furious glare in her blue eyes.

"Dany," He murmured her name so gently, the dim glow of fire in her eyes had long since faded to sadness and the sound of her dress brushing against the earth were like faint whispers.

"Why?" She whispered almost helplessly, it instantly broke his heart. "Do I mean nothing to you?" The moonlight swept into the room in the most precarious of ways. The shadows across their faces, across courtyard, left an ominous and depressing weight atop of their skins. All was silent but for the wind that slipped past them.

Jon's gaze darkened, "It doesn't matter what I feel for you, Dany. I'm nothing but Eddard Stark's bastard son, what could I possibly have to offer you?" He turned away, picking up his discarded sword; he began to leave the courtyard. "Besides, Robb, he has feelings for you as well. He has more to offer you, a true home; a real name to pass onto your children."

Her eyes blazed, and with every ounce of strength she could muster she grabbed him by the shoulder, forcing him to face her. "Is that what it's about? Robb's feelings for me? I don't care about a castle, a highborn name, none of it!"

Jon slowly withdrew her hand from his shoulder, his gaze solemn and unwavering of feeling. His eyes were hard, lips pressed into a thin line, body stiffened, and hands clenched at his side. She couldn't feel the pain right away, but she knew that soon it would come with his next few words, the boundless, burning, wretched pain. "I know that it's hard to understand now, but one day you will want that. And you'll regret your decision of choosing me." At first he could only stare at the damage he'd done to her, the light in her eyes dimmed as he turned away for a second time and disappeared into the darkness, unable to control his own overwhelming emotions as he returned to his room hastily.

Her breath began to hitch in her throat, a lump rose and it became difficult to swallow as she hurried to his room, pushing past the half-closed door, it slammed closed behind her from her forceful shove. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, eyes liquid-like while teardrops clung to her eyelashes and trickled down her face, reflecting the transcendent light from the torches illuminating the doorway. "No, you don't get to make that decision for me. If you choose to walk away now, it's for you, because I know what I want. It's always been you, Jon." Jon stood frozen, his hands tightening at his sides, he turned slowly to face her, and the confliction of feelings in his gaze tormented her heart. She closed the distance between them, reaching out a hand to press against his cheek. "No one else will ever replace my feelings for you."

"Dany," His voice was raspy and low, both their breathing uneven. There was an indescribable softness, a radiating warmth to his words.

Dany pressed her fingers against his lips, her voice just wavering on a whisper as she hushed him sweetly, "Don't speak."

She leaned up slowly, their lips barely touching, just the subtlest of grazes of hesitation. Daenerys could feel his warm breath brushing against her cheek and neck. Slowly her mouth had hotly descended upon his. She gasped in sensuality; he wasted no time to brush his tongue against the flesh of her lips and slide it past her them. The carnal warmth and gentleness of his lips moving of her soft ones left her breathless. Her eyes half-lidded fluttered shut, her fingers skimmed up the length of his arms to interlace into the curls of his hair, while her other arm wrapped around his neck, urging him closer. His strong arm locked around her waist, his hand gliding up to cup her cheek, each part of her chilled skin his fingers touched flared with a seething heat. A new sensation stirred, awakening in her. The single kiss was both, chaste and sinful, sweet and powerful, inexperienced and domineering, all at once. The contrast ignited a greater fire inside her. Her delicate body instinctively arched to mold to his hard one. The feeling was almost foreign, one she hadn't felt before, a feeling of completion.

Jon stepped back on shaky legs until they hit the edge of the bed, he knees buckling beneath him as he sat on the bed, kiss unbroken, and Dany was straddling his lap. All sense evaporated, giving in to instinct as he explored every curve of the hot cavern of her mouth. His warm fingers brushed against the milky skin of her thigh, creating a trail of fire in their wake.

Breathlessly, both drew apart. Their chests rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths. "I'm sorry, I never meant for it to go that far." The guilt-ridden look on his face, his brown eyes narrowed, almost in self anger.

"Do you regret it?" Dany whispered, her blue gaze brimming with unspoken emotion.

Jon looked at her incredulously, "Of course not."

Leaning forward and pressing her forehead against his, she pressed a gentle kiss against his lips, "Then there is nothing to apologize for, now is there?" The once lively spark in her eyes began to fade, giving way to an uneasy seriousness. "Jon, when the king will return to King's Landing, I must accompany your father and sisters."

"What?" Jon whispered, eyes widening with disbelief.

Shaking her head, Dany looked at him sadly, "Your father told me, King Robert wants me kept under watch now that he has found me here in Westeros."

"Is this some bloody joke?" Jon disregarded her words, overcome by his own anger.

Pressing a hand against his cheek, Dany tried to forge a smile, "He's within his right, and I can understand his mistrust of me. The wounds of our families' histories continue to run deeply."

"Dany," Jon murmured, as she pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

"I know no one must find out about us yet," Daenerys whispered, pressing her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as if it were her own personal lullaby. She closed her eyes, committing it to memory, "So until I can return to you, I'll keep this memory embedded in my heart to help me through those nights without you."

The tiniest traces of a smile managed to grace the dark-eyed man's eyes, "There is another who will know of us." He glanced out the window for a moment, the clearest of nights he'd seen in many months. His voice was tender to her ears, "The moon will be our witness."

Smiling at his words, Dany asked, "Can I stay here tonight?"

"Dany," There was hesitation in his voice.

"Everyone will be tired from the celebration to notice," The young Targaryen assured with a sweet smile. "You shouldn't worry so much," She teased with a laugh.

Jon rolled his eyes, a mischievous gleam entering his eyes as he turned them over onto the bed as Dany gasped in surprise, and soon she was pinned beneath him, his body hovering over her. "One of us needs to." Jon countered playfully as withdrew himself, moving to lay down beside her, Dany turned onto her side to look at him; all traces of humor began to disperse from her gaze, as she looked at him solemnly.

"Will you be here when I return?" She asked gently, the worry flickering in her eyes.

"I will," Jon assured her, reaching out a hand to tuck a loose strand of silvery hair behind her hair.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

* * *

The quietness of the early morning was broken, when a shrill cry ricocheted in the courtyard, "Bran!" The heartbreaking, mournful wail was enough to awaken both Jon and Dany in bed, exchanging quick glances of concern, both rushed out of bed and down the halls reaching the courtyard. The sight before them left both speechless.

Bran's mangled body lay beside Lady Stark, she leaned over her son's lifeless body with pale, wide eyes, lips agape in a grief-stricken cry. Sansa stood by her handmaiden, her body trembling. Jon immediately rushed to his brother's side. Eddard, Robb, and the guard came rushing out in a swarm, watching in stunned silence as the healers hurried to the young Stark's side.

"What's going on?" A confused voice asked from behind the Targaryen heir, she turned to see Arya and Rickon looking on in worry, unable to see past the mass of people.

As Arya and Rickon pushed passed the few bodies in front of them to her side, Dany turned away from the scene, eyes brimming with unshed tears as she gathered Arya and Rickon to her, holding them close to her body, "Don't look." She whispered with forced, aching calmness.

* * *

Dany walked aimlessly through the halls towards Jon's room, her heart grief-stricken, her face pale; she swiped a hand against her cheek when stray tears spilled. As she passed Sansa's room, she heard the softness of weeping. She glanced through the half-closed door, her heart breaking to see the older Stark girl lying on her bed, her small body shaking with each muffled sob.

"Sansa," Dany called to her gently, the red-haired girl lifted her tear-stricken faced.

"Is he going to die?" She demanded through her tears.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Dany sat down beside her, running a hand through her rosy locks. "I don't know." She answered her gaze full of remorse.

"I-I can't stop crying!" Sansa wept angrily, brushing away furiously at her tears in all her exhaustion. "Why can't I stop crying?"

Dany took her hand, drawing Sansa to rest her head on her lap, she stroked her hair soothingly. "It's alright to cry, Sansa." She assured the hysterical girl. "Try and get some sleep."

"I'm too scared to sleep, what if something happens to Bran!"

Dany whispered comfortingly, "I'll stay with you until you awaken, I promise." Too tired to fight her consciousness, the young Stark eventually succumbed to her weariness, her hand clutching a bunched up fold of Daenerys's dress, as if she feared the loss of her if she let go. The young Targaryen sat in the sudden silence, watching sympathetically as Sansa slept, and gingerly brushing her hair from her face. "It's going to be alright."

She wished so desperately for her words to be true.

* * *

End of Chapter!

I hope you all enjoyed and please **review**!

**A/N**: So I decided to hold off on the 'lemon' until later on, so I decided to just offer a little tease. I didn't use the words, "I love you" I don't feel their feelings for each other are strong enough for it to be said with meaning. When I had thought of writing this story originally, I had planned for a somewhat rated M moment in this scene, but I agree with my fellow readers, it seemed too early after reading what I had written. Also, for those messaging me, asking for a scene between Dany and Sansa, I hope this was to your liking! Also, I hope you don't feel the kiss was a bit too much, because it's all the tension from being together for literally 6 weeks, and having these building feelings and not being able to act upon them until they were taken to the extreme with Dany finding out about Jon's intentions to join the Night's Watch. So, I hope it was well worth the wait and expressed more feeling then just action in the kiss. A MAJOR thank you to all those who reviewed and offered their honest feedback, I can't tell you enough how much I appreciate this!


	7. Do I Make You Proud?

**A/N**: Just got back yesterday and worked on this night and day to get it posted today! *Crawls into bed exhausted*

_Chapter 7: Do I Make You Proud?_

Read. Relish. Review.

* * *

Gloomy clouds had stolen the color of the land, surrounding the vast area in a blanket of bleak grayness, and a deep, slumbering chill consumed any person that dared to set foot in its depths. A never-ending sadness now engulfed Winterfell, both in mournful cries and quiet whispers. Two days had passed, and Bran had yet to awaken from his ensuing sleep.

Down in the banquet hall, two green eyes stared out into the scenery with a look of boredom. He barely registered the rain approaching in gentle strides. His attention was on nothing other than his own inner musings. The fifteen year old sat relaxed in the dining hall chair, on the table in front of him lay array of foods. One arm lay against the armrest, propping his chin, while his other hand whirled a silver cup in small, idle motions.

"When are we going to leave?" Joffrey questioned, the strident of his voice signaling his contempt and annoyance. "We've already stayed two more days then father said were needed, now we must stay another?"

The queen cast her son a silencing stare, "We will return home soon, until then I suggest you be careful with your words. Your father would be furious to hear you speak in such a manner, you are to be future king."

His expression twisted to one of disdain, while his voice was filled with false regard, "Of course." He quipped without another glance at his mother.

"Is Bran going to be alright?" Myrcella's soft voice spoke up.

"That is up to the gods, my darling," Cersei murmured, brushing away a stray lock of her daughter's hair. As her brother Tyrion entered the room. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of him as he joined his family. Merely moments after his arrival, she gathered her children and left the dining hall, securing her silk stole around her shoulders. After gently shooing off her children did she take notice of the young Targaryen princess, looking wistfully out the window, there was a look of melancholy on her face.

"Is something troubling you, little one?" Cersei interrupted with feigned motherly love.

Daenerys's eyes shut for a moment at her ruined silence. "I'm fine," Her voice chimed without sparing the queen a single glance.

"Are you truly fine? You are all alone; no family left, your brother still remains in Essos I presume? How can someone so alone be fine?" Cersei's eyes skimmed over the young silver-haired blonde, her eyes narrowing in scorn, but her voice remained all the while pleasant. "Who knew the feathers of such incestual relations could create such a fine bird?" The mockery she veiled thinly rung accusingly in each word she spoke. Dany flickered her a glance, the beautiful Lannister woman smirked at her in feigned ignorance. "Have I struck a nerve?"

Daenerys turned her head away, staring in the distant at the memory that still plagued her. The young Targaryen closed her eyes as the memory took full hold over her. The look on Jon's face; the shattering heartache, the helplessness and living fear in his eyes. "Or they can create monsters." Dany whispered under her breath as she opened her eyes. The only thing that was reflected in her eyes was the barest hint of pain before she smothered it. Despite her best efforts to hide it, Cersei had caught sight of it.

"What was that?" Cersei spoke through gritted teeth.

"Incestual relations can create monsters," Dany replied with no emotion, her stare was blank; no feeling lingered in their blue depths, just a distant stare. "Don't you agree Lady Baratheon?"

"You will address me as your queen, do you understand child?" Cersei hissed in annoyance.

Dany's eyes instantly darkened to one of a violent blue, her tone was cold as ice, and her intense stare had the queen frozen on the spot. "You are no queen in my eyes."

The Lannister woman's entire body was rigid and her hands crackled with the twitch of flashing lightning, a warning sign that she was in no mood to take any more of anyone's games. The energy began to extend from her body, crackling in the air. The swiftness of the strike against tender flash rung with aching echoes into the empty halls, her pale skin was now the color of blood. "How dare you! You filthy Targaryen! You dare to speak to your queen in such a manner? You may be under the guard of these northerners, but soon you will be within my web. I promise you on these seven kingdoms, I will make you regret ever speaking those words to me."

The sound of approaching footsteps subsided. "Dany?" Arya's voice perked up the way it always had when she spotted the young blonde.

Cersei had no time to register the next few moments. "That is the only time you will ever lay a hand against me." A soft voice whispered into her ear. The sound was muffled, almost as if the person was speaking to her from some enclosed place. "Keep your threats, you do not frighten me," The voice sounded clearer this time, closer even. Only when the voice disappeared did Cersei turn to see Dany's retreating figure walk towards the young Stark girl.

The shock quickly faded, a small huff of laughter escaped the queen, and her lips lifting into a half tilted smirk, one of cruel intentions and the subtlest traces of silent admiration. "We shall see how strong you are, little bird without feathers."

* * *

"Are you alright?" Arya asked with a flicker of concern marring her face. Dany could offer a nod and a barely-there smile. She was still quite shaken from her altercation with the queen, she could not find it in herself to find even a sliver of remorse for her words, her Targaryen temper had taken over, she was tired of others threat, tired of others trying to overwhelm her with intimidations of torturous pain that would await her if she chose to defy them, she was tired of others ruling her life, she had had enough. Never would she allow a lioness of Lannister get the best of her. "Father says we are to leave the day after tomorrow." The heaviness in her voice broke the Targaryen's heart; no child should carry such a burden.

"Everything will be alright," Dany coaxed gently as she bent down to her level, holding her arms as if trying to find fortitude in the young Stark's gaze. "Bran's life is no longer in any danger from what I hear."

Arya's gaze wavered with uncertainty, "If he is safe, why won't he awaken?"

"I don't know," Dany's tone was bittersweet. The small smile that graced her features was self-loathing as she turned her head away to look up at the tower where Bran's body rested in. "His body may still be recovering from the shock of his fall."

"It couldn't have been an accident, Bran never falls!" Arya argued as tears suddenly spilt from the edges of her eyes. Her arms flew around Daenerys's legs, and she buried her face into the soft wool, trying to will away the droplets. "Why did this have to happen to him?"

Dany's lips parted, but no words would come. She held the young brunette close, stroking her hair in loving strokes. "Gods can be cruel. Come, you need to rest." The dark circles that hung around her eyes left little to be desired, she could only imagine the past few nights the young Stark had stayed awake in tears, offering prays to the gods to save her brother.

"Will he ever be able to walk again?" Arya whispered cautiously.

"I don't know," The single tear fell free from the corner of her eye and slowly made a salty trail over the curve of her cheek; it dripped off her chin and stained the corset of her dress.

* * *

Nightfall came quickly, all the Stark and Baratheon children sat together. Dany had found no sign of Jon despite her endless search. When nothing but silence continued to pass, the Targaryen heir excused herself, she had felt Joffrey's looming glare, while none of the Stark children even batted an eye to her words, all consumed in their own grief. She gathered a tray of fresh foods, she had spent many days in the kitchen, hoping to catch sight of the man she wished most dearly to see, now she knew, he had not eaten for the past two days. As she made her way out into the darkness, vaguely managed to see the shift of white, it was the delicate of motions, the faintest impressions another creature lurked outside in the courtyard with her. The creature turned, from beneath the light of the torch Dany could make out the flicker of red orbs, vigilantly watching her as if coaxing her to follow. Ghost. Aimlessly, she followed the direwolf, he lead her up the path to his master's room. Daenerys stayed back a moment as Ghost pushed past the tiny peek of open doorway.

"Not now, Ghost," The tone of his voice stung, it was defeated, overcome with its misery to even muster an ounce of strength to its pitch.

With a free hand she pushed the door open further, "If you wish to avoid me, you must try harder." Jon had to push the large direwolf to lie down across his legs to catch sight of the Targaryen princess; there was a tiny fragment of a smile trembling on her lips as she took him in. He knew her face was melancholy, though he could barely feel it. Dany knew his eyes forbade her to see fully into them. Sighing, she shut the door behind her. "I brought food." She placed the tray onto his bedside table, gingerly sitting on the bed edge at his side.

Jon glanced at her, stretching just a little to look over his shoulder at her. "Thank you, but I'm not hungry." The sight of his brother's body in his mind still left him bewildered with fear and nauseated with sorrow. A gentle breeze sweeping through his window, through his wool clothing every so often was the only thing soothing enough to prevent him from screaming.

"You haven't eaten in days," A warm hand found his. Dany reached up from her seat and folded her fingers intricately with his. "There's no use in lying to me, I've been by the kitchen hoping to even catch a glimmer of your existence. You never came, not once to get food." She gently hugged him from behind; keeping their fingers laced together, held his shoulders dearly and rested her cheek against them. Such closeness was still unfamiliar to him until as of late. Hands had always been so foreign to his skin. "I will never allow you to drown in your grief alone, Jon."

Leaning back, using her free hand, her slim fingers glided across his chin like the soft flutters of a butterfly's wing. With hesitation, Jon turned to face her, her lips parted at the sight of tears brimming in his eyes. A single, silent tear escaped, trickling delicately down his cheek. Jon felt the softness of her lips against his skin, it warmed his chilled skin. Dany kissed away the trail that the tear had left, but she still felt the presence of it.

"He's going to be a cripple," Jon's voice came out evenly, but not without strife.

"He'll be alive," Dany reminded gently. "He'll have a difficult life, but a life nonetheless. Isn't that worth more?" Reaching over to the table, she grabbed a bowl of still hot soup. Jon looked at her, the hollow stillness in his eyes caused her to waver, but she smiled sweetly, holding up a spoon. "May I?" She whispered tenderly, after a few moments, Jon took the morsel and swallowed, trying to will away the lump that rose in his throat. Time seemed to pass slowly in the room, but Dany savored it like the final drop of water in a smoldering desert heat. She glanced at the empty soup bowl and half eaten loaf of bread. Brushing away a stay curl from his face, she pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek and she spoke softly, "You should go see him."

"He's still asleep."

"Even in his deepest sleep you'll reach him, I'm sure he'd love to hear his brother's voice."

* * *

Now here he stood after much coaxing from Dany. The labors of exhaustion still hung heavily on him. He'd only gotten a few hours of sleep here and there, but even his dreams were overwhelmed with concern and fear for his brother's life. Taking in a shaky breath, Jon pushed the door open slowly; his first sight was of his slumbering sibling, dwarfed in the large bed and the pelts that clung to his body. His direwolf continued to howl in mournful yowls outside the tower, but they suddenly subsided, Jon could immediately imagine Ghost comforting his own brother. As he took a step into the room, he felt the burning sensation of a spiteful glare wash over him. His lips parted, eyes widened slightly at the sight of Lady Stark.

"What are you doing here?" She impatiently waited for him to make a reply, but Jon wished to speak as little as possible.

"I came to see Bran," He offered his meek explanation.

"Why?" Catelyn tasted the venom churning in her mouth; Jon inwardly flinched away from her words as if she were a deadly snake poised to strike.

"He's my brother," He spoke the words she despised most, but she acted as if she had not heard them.

She nodded curtly towards the young Stark, "As you can see he's fine, now leave."

With all the anger and strength in the world, he willed away the vile thoughts brewing in the back of his mouth like acid. He ignored her, and began to walk towards the opposite side of Bran's bed, slowly and seemingly in a stunned state at getting a closer look of slumbering brother. He bent down, delicately running a hand over his head, fearing he might break if he pressed harder. "You're going to be alright Bran; you're a fighter, the bravest boy I know. Hurry and return to us, everyone is waiting for you." He whispered to his brother. "Remember what father says, it's not like a Stark to keep others waiting. I won't leave your side, I'm not going anywhere without you." His voice was soft as the ripples of a pond. He dared not look at Lady Stark in the eye. Her eyes surely would have been his undoing.

"I want you to leave right now," Catelyn barely spoke, the strident of her voice shaking with many emotions, unable to decide which it seek to speak out. A figure began to emerge in the doorway as Jon turned briskly to leave, but her vehement whisper made him freeze, "It should've been you." He turned to look at her like she'd cut off his tongue. Jon ground his fingers into the palm of his hands, his nails dug deep into the skin. He turned away to make his way to the door, he paused when he saw Eddard standing there with a remorseful look, mouth opening to say a word, but Jon brushed past him without a second glance.

He walked blindly a few paces before hands shot out to stop him in his crusade; he turned smoldering eyes onto whoever dared to touch him at that moment. Dany's blue eyes searched his to gain any kind of understanding. He would not shed a tear for her, not for that woman. His shoulders slumped, the anger quickly faded from his expression at the sight of her.

Before she could speak, she heard Catelyn's hissing voice, it bordered on a hysterical cry, "I want him gone, Ned! Send him away to the wall. I will not have him here while you are gone. I won't be able to handle it, I won't do it!"

"Cat," Eddard tried to sooth her.

"No! I don't care if the queen thinks it is a bad impression to see the new Hand of the King's bastard son in the capital!" Catelyn spat vilely. "He is your mistake not mine!"

"Alright," Eddard whispered ruefully.

Daenerys's eyes were wide with horror, flickering wildly between the doorway of Bran's room and to Jon, whose face was concealed in the shadows of the torch. He tore away from her, his voice rasped with emotion, pleading and cold, "Please Dany, leave me be." He stalked away, in the luminance of the torch, she caught glimpse of the stray tear slide down his cheek as he swept past her.

Jon tried breathing through his nose when he could feel a sob inching its way up my throat. His breath was growing shorter and shorter the more he tried to stifle any noise. He sucked in a sorrowful breath of air. Ghost was quick on his heels as he rushed into his room, slamming the door shut with all his might. He pounded his fists into the dark oak until they bled, eyes tightly closed. He wanted the dams in his eyes to come crashing down and let all the tears fall free. He wanted, but he couldn't. Jon wasn't sure whether to feel some twisted anger towards Lady Stark, so deep and loathing, or whether to scream out all of his afflictions and pain over his father's words. Was this his purpose in life, to be punished over and over again for his father's choices? To be tossed aside by his father without a second thought for his trueborn children? He wanted to die.

* * *

"Daenerys," Eddard's calm, soothing voice reached her ears. "Arya has informed me you requested my presence?"

"Yes," Dany spoke softly. "I'm sorry to ask you here at such a time, you must be exhausted."

"Don't worry child, I am no elder yet," Lord Stark chuckled in quiet amusement to himself, Dany smiled at the shining humor in his eyes. "What ails you, Daenerys? Are you scared of going to King's Landing? I know facing Robert and the Lannisters is no easy task, but I will remain by your side, I promise."

"I know," The young Targaryen princess said absently. "I do not fear the king or the Lannisters, a dragon feeds on lions and stags alike."

Eddard laughed, it was a genuine, throaty laugh of true humor. "I admire your fire, child. You are a true Targaryen through and through, just like Rhaegar."

The fire in her eyes dimmed, "You knew my brother?"

"I fought by against him in Robert's Rebellion, the war that ultimately took your brother's life." Eddard explained with deadly calmness. "But many respected him, and continue to do so, I as well."

Pressing her lips into a tight line, Dany nodded and swallowed with great difficulty, "Thank you. I never knew him."

"He'd be proud of you," Eddard squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. "Now tell me, what has you troubled?"

"It's Jon," Her eyes were hardly anything more than a vacant, cold fortress that withheld nothing but regret and secrets. "He overheard you and Lady Stark in Bran's room, we both did."

There was no shock in his gaze as she thought there would be, but instead he kept his head down like he'd been wounded. "He heard us." He mused more to himself.

She hardly blinked, hardly moved, and yet still she felt a flicker of pity for this man. "You may have raised Jon with the same standard as your children, but you never provided him with the same love. Ever since my arrival, you've offered me more fatherly kindness, then I've seen you offer him. I cannot say I understand the difficulties Jon's existence places on your and Lady Stark's marriage, but it wasn't his fault for being born into this world."

"I know," Eddard murmured his tone gruff with emotion.

"Then why do you continue to punish him as if it is?" Dany's voice croaked and ached from fighting against a cry. For a moment, all she could hear was her breath wavering like a battered whore's. "I've seen him shed tears because of Lady Stark, but he should not have to shed tears because of his father. You hurt him most by withholding what he wants most." When he said nothing, she continued. "A father's love and knowing his mother, you are the only source left in his life that can offer him a glimpse of who his mother was, but you continue to deny him."

"Daenerys," Eddard spoke harshly, wishing not to hear more of what he already knew deep in his heart.

Her head willed her to hold her tongue, but she simply refused. "If you send him away to the wall without telling him about his mother, he will resent you for it. He will never say it out loud, he will push it away to the farthest part of his mind and heart, he will hate himself for harboring such a feeling towards his father, but through it all, he will resent you. Is that what you want? To lose a son, who was left both motherless and without a father's love?"

"I never meant for it to happen this way," Eddard whispered, his eyes brimming with unspoken grief.

"Tell him while you have time," Dany urged gently. "Help him to understand."

Eddard turned away without another word, walking towards the dimly lit hall; it wasn't long until he disappeared from her sight, engulfed within the darkness of the night. Dany turned back to look up at the cloud covered sky, the tears she had held back suddenly released as they streamed down her cheeks. After walking aimlessly through the halls as if his destination were embedded into his mind, he stood outside Jon's door. He heard a soft growl, and then Jon's sleepy voice.

"What is it, Ghost?" It was thick with emotion as if he'd been trying to prevent himself from crying.

Knocking on the door gently, Eddard spoke with a sturdy voice, "Jon, may I come in?"

The door opened after a moment, as Jon looked at his father with undisguised surprise, "Father, what are you doing here? Is Bran alright?" The quiver of concern in his son's eyes warmed his heart. Jon had always been a loving of his siblings, protective of them, encouraging them, and they in return loved him dearly.

"Can we talk?"

There was a flicker of hesitation in Jon's expression, be stepped aside, "Come in."

As he walked into the torch-lit room, Eddard caught sight of the raw, dried blooded hands. His eyes widened as he grabbed his wrists, "In all the seven kingdoms, Jon what have you done?"

"It's nothing," Jon withdrew his hands, unable to meet his father's eyes, he had never lied to his father, and it was not about to start now.

Eddard's eyes darkened, he turned and disappeared out the door, after several long moments he returned with a basin full of heated water, cloths and an odd smelling ointment. "Sit." He instructed.

"But fath-" Jon went to argue.

"Sit," Eddard's voice held no room for objection. Jon sighed and sat down on his bed. Lord Stark retrieved a chair, setting it by his bedside and placing the basin onto the small, rickety table. Eddard looked at it thoughtfully, "We'll need to get that replaced." Immediately, he took Jon's hand, who didn't offer any struggle. Dipping the cloth into the water, he began to gently wash away the stained blood on his skin, every so often pausing when Jon would try to conceal a small grimace.

"Father," Jon questioned after a moment. "Why are you here?" Eddard continued to work at cleaning his hand, only stopping to take the other to scrub. Jon pulled his hand away, meeting his father's gaze with a hardened one. "If you're here to tell me I'm going to the wall after tomorrow, I already know."

Eddard sighed with a heavy heart, "No son, we will speak of that later. I am here for another purpose."

Jon's brown eyes became more intense, and he dared to ask. "Why?"

Eddard's eyes softened, seeming to offer an apology for his lateness, "To speak about your mother."

* * *

End of Chapter!

I hope you all enjoyed and please **review**! Thank you to those who took the time to review, I'm so blessed! I never thought my story would reach 100 reviews so quickly, thank you, thank you all so much!

**A/N**: As for Cersei's actions, I believe that is how she would react because she knows Daenerys is a possible threat, and that were family still have supporters in King's Landing, and she doesn't know how the kingdoms will react knowing there is a Targaryen back in Westeros.


	8. Sweet Child of Mine

**A/N**: So, for the previous chapter, I believe Cersei would react in such a manner seeing there was an heir of Targaryen in Westeros, and Robert has done nothing to get rid of her. To me anyways, I think Cersei would feel threatened because there are still people who support the Targaryen as the rightful rulers, and she wants to intimidate Dany, but she can't. And as for, Dany, she cares deeply for Jon, so I doubt she'd be subtle to Eddard about the one thing that pains him most, I'd expect her to be quite direct, which is why I made her so. Plus, she and Eddard have grown close like father and daughter, so she feels she can speak her thoughts and feelings freely without fearing him. I am planning to keep this story somewhat canon, but with my own twists as well. Furthermore, I felt bad for leaving such a cliffy, so enjoy!

_Chapter 8: Sweet Child of Mine_

Read. Relish. Review.

* * *

**Flashback**

"Don't worry, it won't be long now!" The midwife reassured soothingly. Outside, blood-curdling cries rung out, shrieks riving in pain, and others mourning in grief filled the skies as if it had become the norm. The stench of decay and rotting corpses was overwhelming, screams of terror continued to echo like the powerful beats of drum through the halls, others like ghostly wails, quietly fading into nothingness as a life was taken.

The warm expressions of the handmaidens did little to settle the blue-eyed woman's nerves, but this approaching pain she could handle, she knew she could. Yet, there was the man she loved dearly gingerly holding her hand. Sweat trailed quickly down her body, her spine arching in painful contractions. Her mind was becoming delusional with pain, while destroying her all the same. Frequently, her gaze would shift to the barricaded doors, her eyes frantic, willing her child to arrive before it was too late. Starring up at the ceiling her mind tried to force the pain out, attempting to numb it. It had begun to work until the sound of approaching footsteps altered her priority, the midwives rushed to her, spreading her legs open with sudden swiftness, all the while with comforting smile on their faces, but their eyes danced with concern while they inspected her. They had exchanged a few words with the maids before settling with curt nods in agreement.

The man gave her hand a gentle squeeze offering any solace he could, he tried to smile, but his lips barely managed to twist upwards from their permanent frown, "Did you hear that my sweet, it's almost time." He tried desperately to encourage, the woman looked at him, skin sickly pale and shining with sweat. She could only breathlessly nod her acknowledgement, but offered him the tiniest glimpse of a smile. It took all his strength to hold back the tears at the small gesture.

The midwives and maids began to prepare her, settling her into a comfortable position. She sucked in a harsh breath. This was going to be it; this was where everything was going to change, where she had been informed the pain was unbearable, a wretched, seething pain waiting to ignite.

"Milady, I need you to be strong," The firm tone of the midwife drew the silvery blonde's attention with a weak nod, "Push!"

With a strangled cry, push she did. Her body instantly replied to her manic requests to force the child out; it began to comply. After a few seconds of pushing she lied back down, panting excessively. The man squeezed her hand, and she was grateful for that. The midwives urged her to continue, time was of the essence. Everything drowned out into the background. Panting, bleary with exhaustion, she collapsed against the pillows behind her. The noises in her surroundings were muffled. Through it all, she could vaguely make out her love's eyes wide with awe and short-lived delight.

"A boy," The midwife announced, but her happiness did not last long.

"He's beautiful," The man whispered warmly, voice gruff with growing emotion.

The reality of his words took a moment to comprehend for the woman. She was another human's mother, she did not know how to respond, she was a loss of words, and nothing could describe the feelings brewing to life inside her. The infant was quickly cleaned and wrapped in a blanket; the maid placed him into her arms. A small patch of dark hair; no doubt his, her heart instantly brightened.  
"He'll look like you when he grows, I know it," The silver-haired woman spoke quietly, she held a mixture of feelings, but the bliss was indeed there. It took all her strength to muster the few words. This woman was not like most new mothers, she did not have the glowing light that came with giving birth. No, instead, there was a grieving sadness in her gaze, and her entire body seemed to cry with melancholy. "He'll be strong, kind, noble, just like you."

"Milady, we must hurry!" One of the handmaidens' cried out, the sound of approaching battle cries drowned closer.

With great misery, the man pressed his forehead against hers, hands clenched tightly around her frail one, "He may grow to look like me, but he'll have your bravery, your sweet heart." He vowed, his expression contorted into one of fear and heartache.

"We must hurry!" The midwife hissed, trying vainly to stop the bleeding of the beautiful woman.

The light in her startling blue eyes was growing dimmer as time passed, her voice suddenly taking on a new strength, "Take him away, protect him, raise him, if you do not they will surely kill him, my sweet child!"

"I will not leave you!" The man was ready to protest profusely.

"You must!" She cried, she was trembling violently, her body tormented with painful sobs as she shoved the now wailing infant into his arms. "Promise me he will survive, so I may pass with peace." The man looked at helplessly, her eyes blazed with grief and determination. "Promise me, Ned!"

"I promise," Eddard whispered, coddling the child until his cries ceased to whimpers.

The fire in her eyes vanished, suddenly weak with unspoken emotion, "Thank you my love."

One of the handmaidens' returned with a bundle in her arms, which she coddled with remorse. Both the silver-haired woman and Eddard looked at her in shock, "You must take your leave with great haste milord, they shall arrive any moment." She looked down at bundle, eyes churning with a storm of guilt. "A maid had given birth the previous night, she did not survive, and her child was stillborn. They will need to see a body."

Eddard looked even more so grief-stricken, "Yes, they will need to see a body with their own eyes."

"Come milord," The other handmaiden began to usher him towards a tapestry hugged wall. "There is a secret passage here; it will lead you on the outskirts, far from the battlefield."

Eddard pushed past her, leaning over the woman's body, pressing his lips against her cool skin, his body quivered with sorrow. "I promise you, my sweet, he shall survive."

She smiled sadly as tears leaked from the corners of her eyes; she reached up a shaky hand to brush gingerly over the small tuft of brown hair. "His name shall be, Jon."

"You must go!" The maid tore him away from the woman and hastily escorted him to the wall, raising the tapestry and pressing a stone into the wall; the passage shuddered with groans as it slid open. The bed-ridden woman watched as her lips trembled, reaching out a hand as her love's face disappeared behind the cold, gray stone wall. A piercing wail ripped escaped her lips as her hand fell limp against the bed. The midwives huddled around her, unable to stop the bleeding.

The doors burst open, all the furniture falling aside like a child's small doll. Men cloaked in armor, with the insignia of a crowned stag etched with pride on their breast plates. "Where is the child?" The leader demanded.

The handmaiden trembled beneath his smoldering stare, "The child was stillborn."

One of the knights' tore the bundle away from her, throwing it with such force to the ground the sickening thud of the child's body fell out from within the confinements of the blanket. All the women looked on in horror, the blue-eyed woman held the leader's gaze mercilessly. The knight nudged the child's head with his boot, until it lulled to its side in a grotesque manner. "She speaks the truth."

In her lowly state, bloodied and unafraid, the woman hissed fiercely, "Burn in hell all of you!"

The knights withdrew their swords, the leader advanced upon the bed-ridden woman, her eyes were resentful, and he murmured cruelly, "I shall take great pleasure in this." He drove the sword over his head, deep into her chest.

On the opposite side of the passage, Eddard fell to his knees, eyes vacant as a night desert. He had lost. He kneeled on the ground, he didn't know for how long he stayed in such a state with the child held firmly against his chest. With a heavy heart, he staggered to his feet, looking down at the sleeping infant. He continued on blindly down the passage, only the soft words. "Goodbye, my sweet," Lingered for a few moments in the howls of the halls before they too faded away into the darkness.

**End**

* * *

"I had left you with a wet nurse I trusted at a tavern just on the outskirts of Stoney Sept until I could return for you, and after the war I took you with me to Winterfell," Eddard explained, a grimness entered his gaze. "I had already lost your mother and my sister, and her son. I refused to lose you as well."

Jon was speechless for a moment as everything began to sink in, his voice thick with emotion, "If Tully, and your men had not arrived, would my mother have survived?"

"No," Eddard shook his head solemnly. "She had lost too much blood; she may have only lived for a few moments more. If Robert had located us before their arrival, you would have surely died."

"I see," Jon murmured, and his head lowered thoughtfully. "What was my mother doing in the middle of a war?"

A small sigh of laughter released from Lord Stark's lips as he reminisced, "Your mother had entered the war to support Rhaegar; she had dressed as a man. We first met when both of us were on solo patrol for our camps, I had spotted her and set an ambush, I was about to cut her neck open, until she released a shrill cry and I found out she was a woman. You could imagine my surprise. So, I made her my hostage, I was young and intrigued by her. She had a fiery temper, a sharp tongue, and a sharper wit, but she was consumed in a radiating light I could not turn away. I fell for her immediately." A look of longing admiration filled the lord's gaze. "I let her go after that night and returned back to camp. I'd never imagine meeting her again the wake of battle. You see, I had witnessed my sister's death, like your mother she was dying from childbirth. She had conceived a son by Rhaegar, but he had been stillborn. I was blinded with grief and had sustained a deep injury; your mother saved me just as I lost consciousness in battle. When I awoke, I was in a dark room, and she was tending to my wounds. I can still remember her words; 'I'm simply returning the favor' she had said to me."

Jon's gaze hardened, "You cared for her." It was more of a statement, then a question.

"She was there for me in a time I needed someone most, my heart was swollen with grief at the loss of my sister. And she was there to comfort me, despite being enemies." His father whispered with warmed affection at the memory. He looked at his son, eyes drowning in sadness. "I loved her very much, Jon."

Jon looked almost helpless now, "What about Lady Stark? Surely, you hadn't forgotten her."

"Aye," Eddard murmured gravely. "Our marriage was new; we were strangers before I left for war. I left her with Robb in newly in her womb. I did feel guilt, but your mother, we shared a strong love. After her death and my return, time passed and I grew fond of Catelyn, which eventually grew to love." A chill broke through the windows and swept through his wool clothing. Eddard's voice grew soft, almost remorseful as he spoke, "But it will never be like the love your mother and I shared. It can never be replaced."

After a moment, Eddard averted his gaze, the sudden intensity in his eyes overwhelmed Jon as he spoke those last few words. His father began wrapping his wounds. "What was her name?" Eddard paused to look him in the eyes.

Eddard looked deeply unto him. Jon was unwavering although he knew there was fear in his son's heart. "Her name was Elaena of House Velaryon, of the blood of Old Valyria. She was beautiful. You may have the Stark family appearance, but your heart beats the same as hers." Eddard pressed a hand firmly onto his son's shoulder. "You are of noble birth and were always loved. Never forget that."

"Why are you sending me to the wall then?" Jon spoke almost as a whisper.

Eddard's brows knit together, a frown marring his face, "I do not wish to, but it must be done. Only few know of your bloodline, and if Robert ever found out I'd dread to imagine the consequences, even if you are my son, he would think of you no better than a Targaryen. The queen had forbidden me from taking you along with me to King's Landing."

Jon nodded solemnly as his father trailed off, "Because I'm a bastard and it would be a bad impression for the new hand of the king." Eddard lowered his head with a guilt-ridden look.

"I'm sorry Jon," Eddard squeezed his shoulder once more. "At the moment I cannot guarantee Catelyn's sanity over Bran's accident. She's grieving terribly; I wish not to ail her more. Can you understand, Jon?" Jon's lips pressed into a firm line. He wanted to argue, throw away his father's words, he wanted to release the growing anger he felt, but his father's pleading stare hurt far too much. He was broken between his trueborn family, and him, his bastard son.

His hands clenched into the cloth wrapped tenderly around his wounded hands, he gritted through his teeth with a monotone indifference, "I understand." Eddard felt his heart tighten painfully in his chest.

"No father could receive a better son than you," Eddard spoke lovingly, but Jon wished not to hear his comforting words. "When I return to Winterfell, I'll have you brought back home, I promise."

Jon turned away, "May I go to sleep now? I've had a long day." His cold, distant words felt like a painful blow to his father's face, but it went unnoticed by him. Eddard wished to reach out and hold his son, just like had done when he was an infant, but he could not will himself too. With a heavy heart he stood, gathering the basin and bloodied cloths.

"I'll leave you be," He murmured, glancing once more at his son, praying he'd turn to offer him a consoling look or genuine words of understanding, but he knew he deserved neither. He was driving him away from the only home he had known into the harshness of the north, to the wall, where he knew great difficulties would lie. The son he professed to love do dearly, he had chased him away, possibly for good.

Slowly, he shut the door behind him. Jon listened as an eerie stillness followed the fading echo of his footsteps. With an exasperated sigh, he slumped onto his bed, tears streaming wistfully down his cheeks. A soft whine altered his attention as Ghost nosed his way past his hands and buried his muzzle into his chest, placing a large white paw onto his leg. His ears were pinned back, eyes crimson as rubies looking on thoughtfully.

"Thank you, Ghost."

Unbeknownst to him, the door opened soundlessly and a figure entered the room. Quickly he looked over his shoulder at the familiar, welcoming presence. There stood Daenerys, a flimsy white gown hugged her body. A particularly aggressive wind blew from over the window and pressed the fabric of her gown close to her body, outlining the delicate curves of her waist, legs, and chest. She saw him, her bright blue eyes clear, and her lips slowly parting in a silent gasp.

"Dany, are you mad? You'll freeze to death!" Jon almost snapped, but his face and voice was overcome with worry then anger. He hurried over to her, his own woes forgotten. He grabbed a nearby pelt, draping it over her shoulders. "What in the seven kingdoms are you doing up at such an hour?"

Lost in his own tirade, he nearly missed the subtle brush of her warm fingers against his cheek as she gently wiped away the tear stains. "I was worried about you," She finally spoke softly after withdrawing her hand, blue locked with brown eyes. There was a knowing look on her pretty face. "I won't allow you to drown in your sorrows alone, Jon Snow." She whispered her promise, he looked vulnerable. She took his hand, interlacing their fingers securely. Dany tugged his arm gently, breaking him from his daze, her voice sweet as a crisp breeze of summer, "Come." She leaned up, brushing her lips against his briefly as their noses grazed, their eyes half-lidded, and the warmth of their breath lingering between them.

She lead him to the bed, reaching down to push away the blankets, she guided him to sit. Without word and resistance he did so. She lifted the hem of the wool chemise, coaxing him to raise his arms and he did so, she discarded it to the floor. Dany sealed her lips over his once more, pressed her hands to his shoulders, and used the weight of her body to push down onto the softness of the bed. Her body hovered over his, gingerly she withdrew, the tenderness of his lips still danced along hers. She moved over him to sit on the other side of the bed, she tugged the pelts over their bodies, padding the spot in front of her for the direwolf. Ghost leapt with ease, he brushed his side beneath the Targaryen heir's raised hand with a soft croon before settling to lay across them both, offering them his warmth.

Jon cracked the smallest of smiles, rubbing his companion's head lovingly. Dany smiled and stroked the snow white fur for a few moments before lying down at Jon's side, head resting on bare chest. Jon's arm gingerly, with the briefest of hesitation wove around her and his hand rested against the flat of her stomach. His voice was hoarse, "I leave for the wall tomorrow."

He felt the gentle caress of her silken hair as she lowered her gaze to rest deeper against his chest, her voice nearly muffled, "I know."

He had expected the tension to be undeniable; constricting, even, but it was neither. Instead, it was a steely calm, at times serene, others rising with discreet precision, but it would quickly return to a cool stillness.

He could no longer withhold his regret, "I'm sorry Dany; I have to break my promise, I don't know when I'll return to Winterfell. As much as I wanted to fight and argue against my father, I couldn't. I don't want to hurt him."

Dany pressed a tender kiss to his chest, "There is no need for apologies. He is your father, and you love him, just as he does you. I can only imagine how conflicted he must be, how much guilt and sadness he feels at this very moment."

Jon's gaze darkened for a moment, willing away any tears that threatened to fall. "He told me about my mother."

Dany took his hand that lay against her stomach, lacing their fingers together and squeezing comfortingly. "There's no need for that now. I know you'll tell me one day, when you are good and ready, and I'll be here to listen." Jon squeezed their intertwined hands, a lump rose in his throat, if he spoke now, he would surely be subdued by the sob constricting in his chest. Moonlight stared in from the windows, both soothing and melancholy. Dany's throat caught, she raised their joined hands, allowing it to rest on his chest, in her line of vision. Her eyes blurred as tear droplets formed and clung to her lashes for dear life. The sadness she felt shredded her vocals to pieces as she whispered, "When the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, you shall return to me."

* * *

End of Chapter!

I hope you all enjoyed and please **review**, if you'd like an update! Thank you, thank you, to all those who reviewed, I appreciate it so much!

**A/N**: Jon's mother is a made up character, but the House Velaryon is a real house of old Valyria. At least I hope so, I tried to do some research and that was the only other house aside from the Targaryen's I could find. Elaena was Eddard's true love, for those wondering, for those who will disagree, or feel offended, I apologize, but like some arranged marriage, in this story, Eddard grew to become fond of Catelyn and love her, but it will never be as strong as his love for Jon's mother, but Catelyn is deeply in love with him, and she does not know of his past with Elaena.

I wanted to keep some part of the possible history of Jon in this story, so that's why I chose to create Elaena; he still has the blood of Old Valyria, but he's not related to Dany, at least not directly anyways, it might be very, very distant if Velaryon and Targaryen were deeply mingled, but I really have no clue. In this story, Jon is the only remaining decendant of House Velaryon.


	9. Somewhere Between Never & Ever

**A/N**: Just to answer a few reviews: The last sentence at the end, "When the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, you shall return to me." Is basically, Dany's way of saying, one day for sure they will be reunited, if it was the other way around like in the TV series, or books, then that means it would never happen. So, there was a meaning for that. Also, for those who feel Dany seems a bit out of character because she's not timid or quiet because she was abused by Viserys, I mentioned in my first chapter, the Dany in my stories was going to be stronger than the one from the TV series/books was in the beginning. And, if she had been timid or scared, she would not bother trying to escape in the beginning. And for those who feel she wasn't subtle enough in her speech with Eddard, I don't remember her beating around the bush very much in the TV series once she grew stronger, I found her quite straightforward. So for those people, if it helps to ease you, I'll mention it for you, Dany will be OC in this story. I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!

_Chapter 9: Somewhere Between Never & Ever_

Read. Relish. Review.

* * *

The suns morning rays burned down upon the two sleeping forms within the bed, the sunlight had peeked enough over the window to cast a glow onto the young Targaryen's face, her eyes squinted from the brightness. Groggily, she sat up, propped by her arm. The haze from her eyes began to clear; the sun had only begun to rise, signaling the approaching dawn. Jon's room faced the horizon, and he was the first person the sun always greeted in its wake. Dany shivered, the sheets of the bed were cool against the bare flesh of her thigh; the flimsy skirt of her gown had ridden up to reveal the milky skin.

She glanced down at Jon's slumbering form, a sleepy smile forming on her lips. She brushed a few stray curls from his face, leaning down to plant a tender kiss to his forehead, as if to coax him to awaken.

Jon shifted towards her, seeking out her warmth. He murmured with a contented sigh, "Dany." The expression on his face was a peaceful one, one of an innocent child.

A small tender smile crept onto her face, her eyes softening sadly. Her slender fingers traced the smoothness of his skin, the dark circles under his eyes. How long had it been seen he slept so serenely? Slowly, he began to stir, eyelids rising to expose piercing brown orbs, dazed with sleep. He offered her a lazy smile; the single act stole the breath from her lungs.

"Good morning," Jon spoke quietly, voice slightly rasped with sleep, but as quickly his eyes grew wide. "Is it already morning?"

Dany laughed, pressing a hand to his chest, "Don't worry, it's only dawn. The sun will not fully rise for a while longer." Jon slumped back onto the bed, releasing a deep breath, and staring up at the ceiling for a moment.

"Everything will change from this moment on," Jon murmured with a hardened stare.

Daenerys leaned over him, gently sealing her lips over his in a chaste kiss, parting slowly and pressing her forehead against his tenderly, eyes fluttering shut. "Don't think about that, enjoy the time we have together."

"Dany," Jon whispered her name so tenderly and Daenerys willed away the tears forming at the edges of her eyes. His fingers brushed nimbly against her cheek, her hand cupping his as she tilted into his warm touch. Jon rose up, capturing her lips in a kiss, desire flared in both of them. His tongue brushed against her lips, which instinctively parted to his invasion. He overtook her fluidly without missing a beat, his body molding to hers as his frame pressed hers into the softness of the sheets and bed. Dany's thoughts blurred at the sensation as her hands trailed up his arm to entangle in his hair and wrap possessively around his neck. It was a little difficult to think when his lips ravished hers the way they did and his hands coming to snake around her waist and glide up the length of the bare flesh of her thigh. She felt every expanse of skin he touched seep with a smoldering fire.

With great strength of will, he reluctantly withdrew his lips from hers, pausing only to press a sweet kiss to her lips once more. He took in the sight of her beneath him, her silvery hair spread out beneath her; the light of the rising sun set it aflame as if her locks were tendrils of white fire, her eyes glowing like the richest of blue sapphires, her pale skin luminous. Dany was pleasantly rumpled. The straps of her gown lay sprawled off, revealing the bare skin of shoulders. Her small hand reached up to stroke his cheek, leaning up to press a tender kiss to his lips, both basking in the warmth of each other for a few moments, slowly they withdrew, foreheads pressed together in quiet sanctum. Long lashes rose as Dany risked a glance at the window, the sun now sat high in the sky, and her lips pressed together in a trembling frown.

Suddenly her throat felt dry and constricted as she whispered, "Everyone will begin to awaken."

"Yes," Jon's hushed reply came after a moment.

"I must return to my room?" Dany breathed out more of a question, her eyes willing Jon to oppose, almost pleading him to.

His eyes tapered sadly, his lips pressed against her forehead gently, "You must."

A single tear spilled from the corner of her eye, "It's too soon."

Delicately he kissed away the droplet, "Do not shed tears, Dany. We'll be reunited sooner than you think." She easily picked up the ambiguity he tried desperately to mask. So, she smiled, hoping to ease his worry, offer his heart any form of solace she could in their final few moments alone.

"Soon," Dany vowed softly, leaning up to capture his lips once more, savoring the feel of their softness and lingering warmth on her lips. As they withdrew, Jon moved off her, and her body cried out at the loss of his presence. As they stood, Jon wrapped one of his cloaks around her, securing it until it consumed her body in blackness. Dany took his hand, lacing their fingers together; she raised their joined hand, pressing her lips against the cool skin of his hand. She smiled dimly, eyes brimming with tender emotion for him. Jon embraced her, her face buried into his neck, and hands wove around his waist tightly.

"I'll see you soon," Jon murmured, pressing a loving kiss to her forehead. Dany could only nod against his chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart. Dany withdrew as Jon opened the door, she smiled at him with all the strength she could muster, when she had her back to him, a few paces down the hall, and she felt it then, the warm liquid trickling down her skin.

* * *

Dany quickly returned to her room, just as she entered and removed the cloak, the door burst open and her handmaiden scurried in with new clothing in hand, they ushered her into the tub, drenching her in scorching water, but she paid no heed to it, instead she welcomed it with open arms. In silence she sat as her body was dried, and her hair intricately braided, she was dressed in a silver, gray Winterfell dress and white boots, snug around her calves.

The older handmaiden stepped forward smiling, a gray stained cloak in her hands. "This is for you, Milady."

Dany smiled gratefully, but refused. "I was given one already." She picked up the black, fur-lined cloak, and swung it around her shoulders before tying it in place. It was far too big for her as the handmaidens exchanged glances. The look in the young Targaryen's eyes held no room for objection.

The older brunette smiled kindly, "It appears too large, Milady, may we help adjust it for you?"

"I would be most grateful," Dany smiled sweetly. Soon, the cloak was perfectly altered, the extra length cut away, and a small hood attached. She was still in awe of how quickly the handmaiden had worked and sewed skillfully. After their departure, she gathered her brown bag, before kneeling before the large chest. Pushing it open, the sight of her three dragon eggs greeted her, immediately soothing her melancholy state for the time. "I am to leave my home once again." She whispered to them as she placed them delicately into the bag one by one. Once they were securely in her bag, she swung it over her shoulder, across her chest, before retying her cloak, hiding the bag from view. She could hear voices of the gathering crowd down below, she glanced around the room fondly, before leaving and shutting the door behind her.

She walked down the halls until she reached her destination, she reached out a hand hesitantly holding the knob of the door, and with a quick inhale of breath she opened the door. She could barely make out Bran's small form consumed in the large bed and pelts. His direwolf raised its head, but settled quickly with a small whimper at the sight of her. There was no sign of Lady Stark, she was silently thankful. Catelyn had rarely left her son's side. Dany strode to his side, and with each footstep she drew closer her heart throbbed more painfully in her chest, until she slowly knelt to sit at his side.

A watery smile emerged on her lips, it was all she could muster, "I'm sorry I haven't visited more often, Bran, but you are always in my prayers." She swallowed hard, gingerly brushing his bangs with her fingers. She took a good look at him, his thick brown hair was hard to tame, but it was better than usual. His cheeks were slowly becoming gray, sunken. Traces of his color still remained, but only just barely. She took his hand into hers, lifeless and wilted, drained of color. "You must wake up, Bran. Come back, everyone is waiting for you. You don't want them to grieve do you? To cry, shed tears, and wallow in pain. It may be difficult, but I know you are strong enough to return to us. Promise me, you won't let go, no matter how easy it may seem to let it all go and fall into the darkness, you'll hold on!" Tears formed in her eyes, crumbling down her cheeks. Her body trembled with a sob; she lowered her head to rest lightly on his chest. "You can't leave." She whispered softly, but there was strength to her voice, as if she were quietly scolding him if he did so.

"Dany," A voice cooed quietly, quickly she sat up, brushing her tears away swiftly, and gently placing Bran's hand down at his side. She turned with a forceful smile, eyes slightly reddened to see Rickon.

"Rickon, what are you doing here little one?" Dany asked kindly, she saw the sadness lurking in his eyes. Her lips pressed together, overcome with emotion. "Come here," She whispered, capturing him in her arms as he hurried to her. She pressed a kiss to his temple, resting her chin on the crown of his head.

"Please don't leave Winterfell!" Rickon whimpered into her shoulder.

"I wish I could stay here with you, all of you." Dany spoke in a hushed voice.

"T-then why don't you?"

"It's not that simple." She murmured, glancing down at Bran's slumbering form. "It never is." Slowly she withdrew, wiping away his tears. "Promise you'll be a strong, look after your mother and brothers?"

"I will," Rickon vowed with eager nods of his head. "I'll be the littlest knight like in the story!"

Dany kissed his forehead lovingly, "I know you will."

* * *

As she reached the courtyard, she was lost in the sea of knights and Winterfell men. A hand touched her shoulder, startling her. She looked up to see Eddard smiling faintly, guiding her towards their assembling group.

"Ned, she will ride along with us," Robert's venomous voice hollered over the crowd, immediately silencing them all. "I want her nowhere near my family."

"Robert," Ned went to argue quietly, but Dany placed a hand on his arm.

"It's alright, Lord Stark," Daenerys quickly murmured. "I don't mind riding alongside you. I'd actually prefer it, I enjoy the scenery."

Eddard looked at her with uncertainty, eventually sighing and nodding, "Alright, Daenerys. Let's fetch you a horse from the stables."

"Dany!" A sweet, excited voice called, the Targaryen heir looked over her shoulder to see Arya, smiling at her brightly as Lady Stark ushered her towards the carriage. Dany waved slightly as the young Stark disappeared into the royal conveyance.

She turned, quickly to follow Eddard before he disappeared into the mass of bodies. Moments later, she now stood, with a saddled white mare. Eddard stood beside her, patting the mare's neck. "She's a quick and agile girl, very trustworthy. She'll keep you safe."

Dany stroked the Palfrey's muzzle, smiling at the soft fuzz of her nostrils. "Does she have a name?"

Eddard chuckled quietly to himself, "Sweetfoot." It only took for the single mention for her to understand.

She laughed softly, "Sansa."

"Yes," Eddard nodded thoughtfully. "She was very fond of this horse when she was a filly, back then Sweetfoot was very timid and sweet, but now she has become temperamental and spirited as any stallion." Lord Stark patted the mare's nose, before walking to Dany's side. He was about to help the young Targaryen heir, but she slipped her foot in with ease and with a graceful motion mounted the horse. He chuckled, "Well done, Daenerys."

Dany gathered the reins in her hand, and she looked up to see Jon saddling his own horse. Her voice gentling, "I had a good teacher." There was sadness in her eyes as she watched him. There was still so much she wished to tell him, so many moments she wished to share, and many more memories to create.

Eddard looked up at her, "He must be a good rider."

"He is."

* * *

Jon had mounted his black stallion, he awaited his Uncle Benjen, he watched as the royal court began to move, his eyes flickering over the mass of bodies and horses to easily locate the silver crown head of Dany. She was at his father's side, riding a pretty white horse. He smiled the tiniest of smiles, most of her grace was natural, whether on foot or riding, she was unmatched. There was no doubt she was beautiful for even of noble birth; no even for the royalist of standards. What made her rarer in beauty than most was her compassionate spirit.

"By chance are you moon-gazing?" A humorous voice questioned, Jon glanced over his shoulder to see Tyrion Lannister come to a trotting stop by his side. He easily acknowledged his tease of him appearing in a dreamlike state.

Jon rolled his eyes, "There is no moon to be seen in the daylight." He murmured inattentively, unwilling to venture into his game. With a swift strike of his boots his horse broke into a quick paced trot.

Tyrion matched him with ease, "Oh come now! There are many beauties comparable to the moon down here among us. Some in the appearance of a little dragon, wouldn't you agree?" Jon risked a glance at Dany, before staring on straight-ahead with a stoic expression. Tyrion chuckled when he made no gesture to reply. "Come now, Snow is it? You need to lighten up; you'll be aged far too quickly with such a somber face."

Before he could offer a retort, he heard his Uncle's voice call out, "Jon!" Benjen galloped to his side, halting his horse at his nephew's side. "Why the sudden haste to see the wall?" He jested.

"I wasn't given much of a choice," Jon murmured coolly before continuing on. Benjen watched on sadly.

"Strong lad he is," Tyrion mused out loud. "But, he seems so sad."

Benjen shot him a small glare, "Stay away from him, Lannister."

* * *

As they rode on, Winterfell in the distance behind them, Dany could see the group had begun to part, her heart grew heavy. She could make out Benjen, trotting on ahead as Eddard and Jon remained behind. She urged Sweetfoot into a canter, hoping to spare a few words with Jon before it was too late. As she slowed the white mare, she could make out Eddard's voice, thickened with emotion. "You may not have my name, but you have my blood. The next time we see each other, we'll talk more about your mother." Jon only nodded, eyes darkened with unspoken emotion. Eddard patted his shoulder, before reluctantly riding off to join Robert.

Jon turned to follow his uncle, when a familiar, tender voice swept into his ears. "Leaving so soon?"

"Dany," Jon murmured as she halted the horse at his side. "People will see."

"Let them watch," The Targaryen princess whispered. She could already feel Jaime Lannister's eyes latching onto her skin. She took his hand, placing a small item into it. Jon looked down at the article, an intricate ring linked by a silver chain. A sweet smile traced her lips. "This belong to my mother, it's all I have left of her. It's protected me my entire life, and now it will protect you."

"Dany, I can't take this," His eyes collided with hers, and she shook her head abruptly. He saw it then, only a quick flicker, but he did see it. All the affection and sadness in the world danced in her eyes, all for him.

"I want you to take it," Dany spoke, closing his fingers around the ring. "If you have it, I know you'll be okay." Her eyes fell unto his. She did her very best to keep her own fears at bay. She squeezed his hand that contained her ring. "My feelings for you will never change, Jon, hold onto that and never let that go."

"I won't," Jon spoke almost as a whisper. "I will come back to you, I promise."

"I know," A withered smile managed to lift the edges of her lips, but her eyes remained clouded with grief. He looked deeply unto her. She was unwavering although she knew there was fear in her heart.

"Jon, come!" Benjen called, as both looked up to see the younger Stark sibling watching with a remorseful glance.

"Wait for me," Jon murmured, she looked down at their hands, bound together, before releasing his. With a gentle, simple smile, her gaze resurfaced to meet his. His eyes stuck to hers like he never wanted her to leave. Dany held her breath, but inside she was screaming.

Dany smiled, "I will."

And he was gone. Even through it all, she refused to allow those tears to cross the brim of her eyes. It was only when he and the other watchmen were out of sight that she let one slip.

* * *

End of Chapter!

I hope you all enjoyed and please **review**, it you'd like another update! A big and wonderful thank you to all those who took the time to review, it lets me know my story is truly being enjoyed!

**A/N**: They will be reunited eventually, but they need to part ways to grow strong on their own before they can be strong for each other. Don't kill me!


End file.
